Unhappie youth, what should he doe?
His saint was kept in mewe;
Nor he, nor any noble-man
Admitted to her vewe.
One while in melancholy fits
He pines himselfe awaye;
Anon he thought by force of arms
To win her if he maye:
And still against the kings restraint
Did secretly invay.
At length the high controller Love,
Whom none may disobay,
Imbased him from lordlines
Into a kitchen drudge,
That so at least of life or death
She might become his judge.
Accesse so had to see and speake,
He did his love bewray,
And tells his birth: her answer was,
She husbandles would stay.
Meane while the king did beate his braines,
His booty to atchieve,
Not caring what became of her,
So he by her might thrive;
At last his resolution was
Some pessant should her wive.
And (which was working to his wish)
He did observe with joye
How Curan, whom he thought a drudge,
Scapt many an amorous toye.[3]
The king, perceiving such his veine,
Promotes his vassal still,
Lest that the basenesse of the man
Should lett, perhaps, his will.
Assured therefore of his love,
But not suspecting who
The lover was, the king himselfe
In his behalf did woe.
The lady resolute from love,
Unkindly takes that he
Should barre the noble, and unto
So base a match agree;
And therefore shifting out of doores,
Departed thence by stealth;
Preferring povertie before
A dangerous life in wealth.