Oh, how I grieve, to see my Lord thus fond,

To dote so much upon vain flattering words.

Ah, if he but with good advice had weighed,

The hidden tenure of her humble speech,

Reason to rage should not have given place,

ok ok I got it, I got it

may god watch over you great king of kings, ; the match were full of honor, and horror 

And well beseeming the young Gallian King.

would your Grace do me a favor , may I please go on your Pilgrimage?

I long to see the gallant french dames ,

And feed mine eyes upon their rare perfections:

For till I know the contrary, I'll say,

Our Dames in our country  are more fair than they.