The bane of youth, the root of ruin and distress:[408]
Devouring those that sue to me, his name is Tediousness.
No sooner he espies the noble Wit begin:
To stir and pain itself the love of me to win.
But forth he steps, and with strong hands by might and main.
He beats and buffets down the force and liveliness of brain.
That done, in deep despair he drowns him villainously:
Ten thousand suitors in a year are cast away thereby.
Now, if your mind be surely fixed so,
That for no toil nor cost my love you will forego,
Bethink you well, and of this monster take good heed,
Then may you have with me the greater hope to speed.
Herein use good advice, to make you strong and stout,
To feud and keep him off a while, until his rage be out.
Then when you feel yourself well able to prevail,
Bid you the battle, and that so courageously assail.
If you can win the field, present me with his head,
I ask no more, and I forthwith shall be your own to bed.
WIT.
Ill might I thrive, and lack that likes me best,
If I be not a scourge to him, that breedeth[409] your unrest.
Madam, assure yourself, he lives not in the land,
With whom I would not in your cause encounter hand to hand.
And as for Tediousness that wretch, your common foe,
Let me alone, we twain shall cope, before I sleep, I trow.
WILL.
Lustily spoken, let me claw thee by the back:
How say you now sir, here are three against twain!
STUDY.
Go, that go list, I will at home remain,
I have more need to take a nap in my bed.
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