III
And forth he comes into the commune hall,
Where earely waite him many a gazing eye,
To weet what end to straunger knights may fall.
There many Minstrales maken melody,
To drive away the dull melancholy,
And many Bardes, that to the trembling chord
Can tune their timely voyces[°] cunningly,
And many Chroniclers that can record
Old loves,[°] and warres for Ladies doen by many a Lord.