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The lords of the laggard host ask the woebegone lady what should be done; she answers that nothing can now avail, but that for remembrance they should build in their land, open to public view, “in some notable old city,” a chapel engraved with some memorial of the queen. And straightway, with a sigh, she also “pass’d her breath.”

 

 Then said the lordes of the host,
 

 And so concluded least and most,
 

 That they would ay in houses of thack* *thatch
 

 Their lives lead, <10> and wear but black,
 

 And forsake all their pleasances,
 

 And turn all joy to penances;
 

 And bare the dead prince to the barge,
 

 And named *them should* have the charge; *those who should*
 

 And to the hearse where lay the queen
 

 The remnant went, and down on kneen,
 

 Holding their hands on high, gan cry,
 

 "Mercy! mercy!" *evereach thry;* *each one thrice*
 

 And curs'd the time that ever sloth
 

 Should have such masterdom of troth.
 

 And to the barge, a longe mile,
 

 They bare her forth; and, in a while,
 

 All the ladies, one and one,
 

 By companies were brought each one.
 

 And pass'd the sea, and took the land,
 

 And in new hearses, on a sand,
 

 Put and brought were all anon,
 

 Unto a city clos'd with stone,
 

 Where it had been used ay
 

 The kinges of the land to lay,
 

 After they reigned in honours;
 

 And writ was which were conquerours;
 

 In an abbey of nunnes black,
 

 Which accustom'd were to wake,
 

 And of usage rise each a-night,
 

 To pray for ev'ry living wight.
 

 And so befell, as is the guise,
 

 Ordain'd and said was the service
 

 Of the prince and eke of the queen,
 

 So devoutly as mighte be'n;
 

 And, after that, about the hearses,
 

 Many orisons and verses,
 

 Withoute note* <11> full softely *music
 

 Said were, and that full heartily;
 

 That all the night, till it was day,
 

 The people in the church gan pray
 

 Unto the Holy Trinity,
 

 Of those soules to have pity.
 

And when the nighte past and run
Was, and the newe day begun, —
The young morrow with rayes red,
Which from the sun all o’er gan spread,
Attemper’d* cleare was and fair, *clement, calm
And made a time of wholesome air, —
Befell a wondrous case* and strange *chance, event
Among the people, and gan change
Soon the word, and ev’ry woe
Unto a joy, and some to two.

A bird, all feather’d blue and green,
With brighte rays like gold between,
As small thread over ev’ry joint,
All full of colour strange and coint,* *quaint
Uncouth* and wonderful to sight, *unfamiliar
Upon the queene’s hearse gan light,
And sung full low and softely
Three songes in their harmony,
*Unletted of* every wight; *unhindered by*
Till at the last an aged knight,
Which seem’d a man in greate thought,
Like as he set all thing at nought,
With visage and eyes all forwept,* *steeped in tears
And pale, as a man long unslept,
By the hearses as he stood,
With hasty handling of his hood
Unto a prince that by him past,
Made the bird somewhat aghast.* *frightened
Wherefore he rose and left his song,
And departed from us among,
And spread his winges for to pass
By the place where he enter’d was.
And in his haste, shortly to tell,
Him hurt, that backward down he fell,
From a window richly paint,
With lives of many a divers saint,
And beat his winges and bled fast,
And of the hurt thus died and past;
And lay there well an hour and more
Till, at the last, of birds a score
Came and assembled at the place
Where the window broken was,
And made such waimentatioun,* *lamentation
That pity was to hear the soun’,
And the warbles of their throats,
And the complaint of their notes,
Which from joy clean was reversed.
And of them one the glass soon pierced,
And in his beak, of colours nine,
An herb he brought, flow’rless, all green,
Full of smalle leaves, and plain,* *smooth
Swart,* and long, with many a vein. *black
And where his fellow lay thus dead,
This herb he down laid by his head,
And dressed* it full softely, *arranged
And hung his head, and stood thereby.
Which herb, in less than half an hour,
Gan over all knit,* and after flow’r *bud
Full out; and waxed ripe the seed;
And, right as one another feed
Would, in his beak he took the grain,
And in his fellow’s beak certain
It put, and thus within the third* *i.e. third hour after it
Upstood and pruned him the bird, had died
Which dead had been in all our sight;
And both together forth their flight
Took, singing, from us, and their leave;
Was none disturb them would nor grieve.
And, when they parted were and gone,
Th’ abbess the seedes soon each one
Gathered had, and in her hand
The herb she took, well avisand* *considering <12>
The leaf, the seed, the stalk, the flow’r,
And said it had a good savour,
And was no common herb to find,
And well approv’d of *uncouth kind,* *strange nature*
And more than other virtuous;
Whoso might it have for to use
In his need, flower, leaf, or grain,
Of his heal might be certain.
[She] laid it down upon the hearse
Where lay the queen; and gan rehearse
Each one to other what they had seen.
And, *taling thus,* the seed wax’d green, *as they gossiped*
And on the dry hearse gan to spring, —
Which me thought was a wondrous thing, —
And, after that, flow’r and new seed;
Of which the people all took heed,
And said it was some great miracle,
Or medicine fine more than treacle; <12>
And were well done there to assay
If it might ease, in any way,
The corpses, which with torchelight
They waked had there all that night.
Soon did the lordes there consent,
And all the people thereto content,
With easy words and little fare;* *ado, trouble
And made the queene’s visage bare,
Which showed was to all about,
Wherefore in swoon fell all the rout,* *company, crowd
And were so sorry, most and least,
That long of weeping they not ceas’d;
For of their lord the remembrance
Unto them was such displeasance.* *cause of grief
That for to live they called pain,
So were they very true and plain.
And after this the good abbess
Of the grains gan choose and dress* *prepare
Three, with her fingers clean and smale,* *small
And in the queenes mouth, by tale,
One after other, full easily
She put, and eke full cunningly.* *skilfully
Which showed some such virtue.
That proved was the medicine true.
For with a smiling countenance
The queen uprose, and of usance* *custom
As she was wont, to ev’ry wight
She *made good cheer;* for whiche sight *showed a gracious
The people, kneeling on the stones, countenance*
Thought they in heav’n were, soul and bones;
And to the prince, where that he lay,
They went to make the same assay.* *trial, experiment
And when the queen it understood,
And how the medicine was good,
She pray’d that she might have the grains,
To relieve him from the pains
Which she and he had both endur’d.
And to him went, and so him cur’d,
That, within a little space,
Lusty and fresh alive he was,
And in good heal, and whole of speech,
And laugh’d, and said, *”Gramercy, leach!”* *”Great thanks,
For which the joy throughout the town my physician!”*
So great was, that the belles’ soun’
Affray’d the people a journey* *to the distance of
About the city ev’ry way; a day’s journey*
And came and ask’d the cause, and why
They rungen were so stately.* *proudly, solemnly
And after that the queen, th’abbess,
Made diligence, <14> ere they would cease,
Such, that of ladies soon a rout* *company, crowd
Suing* the queen was all about; *following
And, call’d by name each one and told,* *numbered
Was none forgotten, young nor old.
There mighte men see joyes new,
When the medicine, fine and true,
Thus restor’d had ev’ry wight,
So well the queen as the knight,
Unto perfect joy and heal,
That *floating they were in such weal* *swimming in such
As folk that woulden in no wise happiness*
Desire more perfect paradise.