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 fast lovers, his liege subjects, delighting in their service and helping them to make a mock and a song of those silly persons who guard beauty, and think themselves strong enough to keep Love out of a lady's heart. It is this same Diou Damur that is Chancellor of the Schools of Lovers, and teaches therein by his professors (who have many names) a joyous Trivium and Quadrivium, giving some to drink of the red wine of Desire, feeding others with the sweet apples of CozengeCozenage [sic] and Trompery, and making all more sharp and cunning than the subtlest doctors, or masters in philosophy. And those that serve him well he will never desert. Hence one night, about the time of the Compline-song, as Sir Philip paced to and fro beneath the high house of Master Maurice Torlesse, in the dusky radiance of a moon seven days old, he suddenly saw a light gleam through the lattice of his longing; then a hand pushed the cancels open, and lo! his lady looked forth upon him. "Come near," said she, in a voice sweet and plaintive as a virelai, that drew Sir Philip more strongly and graciously than the west wind draweth the ships of holy pilgrims to the port of their desire. And coming close under the wall he looked upwards to her face leaning out of the window, and gazed into her most beautiful brown eyes, which would have made St. Benedict himself tear up his Rule, and would have burnt up all stern Capitularies and Edicts in their liquid fire. But now they were pitiful and moist with tears, and as she spoke to her true knight her voice ever and again broke short. "Are you not young," said she,