Pleasaunce, Grace, wyth good dame Memory,
To wayte upon her full ententyfely;
Me to receyve wyth all solempne joye,
Adowne her chamber she went on her waye.
And in the meane while the gentle porteres,
Called Countenaunce, on my way then me lede,
Into the basse courte of greate wydenes,
Where all of golde there was a conduyte hede,
With many dragons enameled with reed,
Whiche dyde spoute oute the dulcet lycoure,