They thynke to wedde me to a myghty lorde.

Amoure.

I knowe, madame, that your frendes all

Unto me sure wyll be contraryous;

But what for that? your selfe in speciall

Remembre there is no love so joyous

As is your owne to you most precyous;

Wyll you gyve your youthe and your flourynge aege

To them agaynst your mynde in maryage?

Pucell.