The blinded boy that shootes so trim
From heaven downe so high,
He drew a dart and shot at him,15
In place where he did lye:
Which soone did pierce him to the quick,
For when he felt the arrow prick,
Which in his tender heart did stick,
He looketh as he would dye.20
"What sudden change is this," quoth he,
"That I to love must subject be,
Which never thereto would agree,
But still did it defie?"
Then from his window he did come,25
And laid him on his bed;
A thousand heapes of care did runne
Within his troubled head.
For now he means to crave her love,
And now he seeks which way to proove30
How he his fancie might remove,
And not this beggar wed.
But Cupid had him so in snare,
That this poore beggar must prepare
A salve to cure him of his care,35
Or els he would be dead.
And as he musing thus did lie,
He thought for to devise
How he might have her company,
That so did maze his eyes.40
"In thee," quoth he, "doth rest my life;
For surely thou shalt be my wife,
Or else this hand with bloody knife,
The gods shall sure suffice."
Then from his bed he 'soon' arose,45
And to his pallace gate he goes;
Full little then this beggar knowes
When she the king [espies].
"The gods preserve your majesty,"
The beggars all gan cry;50
"Vouchsafe to give your charity,
Our childrens food to buy!"
The king to them his purse did cast,
And they to part it made great haste;
This silly woman was the last55
That after them did hye.
The king he cal'd her back again,
And unto her he gave his chaine;
And said, "With us you shall remain
Till such time as we dye.60
"For thou," quoth he, "shalt be my wife,
And honoured like the queene;
With thee I meane to lead my life,
As shortly shall be seene:
Our wedding day shall appointed be,65
And every thing in their degree;
Come on," quoth he, "and follow me,
Thou shalt go shift thee cleane.
What is thy name?—go on," quoth he.
"Penelophon, O King!" quoth she;70
With that she made a lowe courtsey;
A trim one as I weene.
Thus hand in hand along they walke
Unto the kings palace:
The king with courteous, comly talke75
This beggar doth embrace.
The beggar blusheth scarlet read,
And straight againe as pale as lead,
But not a word at all she said,
She was in such amaze.80
At last she spake with trembling voyce,
And said, "O King, I do rejoyce
That you will take me for your choice,
And my degree so base!"
And when the wedding day was come,85
The king commanded straight
The noblemen, both all and some,
Upon the queene to waight.
And she behavd herself that day
As if she had never walkt the way;90
She had forgot her gowne of gray,
Which she did wear of late.
The proverb old is come to passe,
The priest, when he begins the masse,
Forgets that ever clarke he was;95
He knowth not his estate.