What-euer to sey he toke in his entent,
His longage was so feyre and p_er_tinent,
That semed vnto mennys heryng,
Not[1] only the worde, but verrely the thing. 343
[Sidenote 1: MS. But.]

[50]

Redith, my child, redith his warkys all,
Refuseth non, they ben expedient;
Sentence or langage, or both, fynde ye shall 346
Full delectable, for that fader ment
Of all his purpos and his hole entent
Howe to plese in euery audience,
And in our_e_ tou_n_g was well of eloquence. 350


[Sidenote: _Hill's Text._]

[Sidenote: ff C lxiij back.]

¶ O fader & fownder of ornate eloquence
_tha_t Illumyned hast all[e] owre bretayne!
To sone we loste thy lavreat science, 332
O lusty lyqvovre of _tha_t fulsu_m_ fontayn_e_!
O cursed det[=h]! why hast _tho_u _tha_t poete slayn_e_,
I mene fader chavucer, mayst_er_ galfryde?
Alas _th_e while _tha_t ever he from vs dyed! 336

¶ Redyt[=h] his werkes full[e] of plesavnce,