I made her to the worship of my lord So do I all mine other creatures, What colour that they have, or what figures." Thus seemeth me that Nature woulde say. And for my work right nothing will I ax My lord and I be full of one accord. For he that is the former principal, Hath made me his vicar-general To form and painten earthly creatures Right as me list, and all thing in my cure is, Under the moone, that may wane and wax. Fair was this maid in excellent beauty Aboven ev'ry wight that man may see: For nature had with sov'reign diligence Y-formed her in so great excellence, As though she woulde say, "Lo, I, Nature, Thus can I form and paint a creature, When that me list who can me counterfeit? Pygmalion? not though he aye forge and beat, Or grave or painte: for I dare well sayn, Apelles, Zeuxis, shoulde work in vain, Either to grave, or paint, or forge, or beat, If they presumed me to counterfeit. This knight one daughter hadde by his wife No children had he more in all his life. There was, as telleth Titus Livius, A knight, that called was Virginius, Full filled of honour and worthiness, And strong of friendes, and of great richess.
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