Footnote 207: Apparently the well-known fabliau of the Dame de Vergy,
upon which Marguerite d'Angouleme founded the seventieth story of the
Heptameron.]

As soon as the tables were taken away, Filostrato, not to depart from
the course holden of those who had been queens before him, commanded
Lauretta to lead up a dance and sing a song. "My lord," answered she,
"I know none of other folk's songs, nor have I in mind any of mine own
which should best beseem so joyous a company; but, an you choose one
of those which I have, I will willingly sing it." Quote the king,
"Nothing of thine can be other than goodly and pleasing; wherefore
sing us such as thou hast." Lauretta, then, with a sweet voice enough,
but in a somewhat plaintive style, began thus, the other ladies
answering:

No maid disconsolate
Hath cause as I, alack!
Who sigh for love in vain, to mourn her fate.

He who moves heaven and all the stars in air
Made me for His delight
Lovesome and sprightly, kind and debonair,
E'en here below to give each lofty spright
Some inkling of that fair
That still in heaven abideth in His sight;
But erring men's unright,
Ill knowing me, my worth
Accepted not, nay, with dispraise did bate.

Erst was there one who held me dear and fain
Took me, a youngling maid,
Into his arms and thought and heart and brain,
Caught fire at my sweet eyes; yea time, unstayed
Of aught, that flits amain
And lightly, all to wooing me he laid.
I, courteous, nought gainsaid
And held[208] him worthy me;
But now, woe's me, of him I'm desolate.

Then unto me there did himself present
A youngling proud and haught,
Renowning him for valorous and gent;
He took and holds me and with erring thought[209]
To jealousy is bent;
Whence I, alack! nigh to despair am wrought,
As knowing myself,--brought
Into this world for good
Of many an one,--engrossed of one sole mate.

The luckless hour I curse, in very deed,
When I, alas! said yea,
Vesture to change,--so fair in that dusk wede
I was and glad, whereas in this more gay
A weary life I lead,
Far less than erst held honest, welaway!
Ah, dolorous bridal day,
Would God I had been dead
Or e'er I proved thee in such ill estate!

O l