But mark what happened on a day:
As he out of his window lay,
He saw a beggar all in gray,
The which did cause his pain.
The blinded boy, that shoots so trim,
From heaven down did hie;
He drew a dart and shot at him,
In place where he did lie:
Which soon did pierce him to the quick,
And when he felt the arrow prick,
Which in his tender heart did stick,
He looked as he would die.
"What sudden chance is this," quoth he,
"That I to love must subject be,
Which never thereto would agree,
But still did it defy?"
Then from the window he did come,
And laid him on his bed,
A thousand heaps of care did run
Within his troubled head:
For now he means to crave her love,
And now he seeks which way to prove
How he his fancy might remove,
And not this beggar wed.
But Cupid had him so in snare,
That this poor beggar must prepare
A salve to cure him of his care,
Or else 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.
"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,
And to his palace gate he goes;
Full little then this beggar knows
When she the king espies.
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