coloure was medled[1] with grete favour. She dranke unto her fader, and to all the lordes, and to all them that had ben at the play of the Shelde[2]. And as she behelde here and there, she espyed kynge Appolyn, and then she sayed unto her fader, syr, what is he that sytteth so hye as by you; it semeth by hym that he is angry or sorrowfull. The kynge sayd, I never sawe so nimble and pleasaunt a player at the shelde, and therefore have I made hym to come and soupe with my knyghtes. And yf ye wyll knowe what he is, demaunde hym; for peradventure he wyll tell you sooner than me. Methynke that he is departed from some good place, and I thinke in my mynde that somethynge is befallen hym for which he is sory. This sayd, the noble dameysell wente unto Appolyn and sayd, Fayre sir, graunt me a boon. And he graunted her with goode herte. And she sayd unto hym, albeyt that your vysage be triste and hevy, your behaviour sheweth noblesse and facundyte, and therefore I pray you to tell me of youre affayre and estate. Appolyn answered, yf ye demaunde of my rychesses, I have lost them in the sea. The damoysell sayd, I pray you that you tell me of your adventures[3].'
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NOTES.
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