“Courtesy,” quoth I, “I grant,
and charity great dwell in your midst;
but, pardon if my speech doth grieve,
methinketh now thy words full wrong;
thou hast raised thyself in heaven too high,
to make thee queen, that wast so young.
What greater honour might he win,
who suffer'd bravely in this world,
and lived in life-long penance here,
with bodily bale to purchase bliss?
What greater glory might he have
than king be crown'd by courtesy?