“Bewailing in my chamber thus alone,
    Despairing of all joy and remedy,
    Out wearied with my thought and woe begone,
    Unto the window gan I walk in haste,
    To see the world and folk that went forbye,
    As for the time though I of mirths food
    Might have no more, to look it did me good.”

Beneath the tower in which the Prince was imprisoned lay a beautiful garden.  It was set about with hawthorn hedges and juniper bushes, and on the small, green branches sat a little nightingale, which sang so loud and clear “that all the garden and the walls rang right with the song.”  Prince James leaned from his window listening to the song of the birds, and watching them as they hopped from branch to branch, preening themselves in the early sunshine and twittering to their mates.  And as he watched he envied the birds, and wondered why he should be a thrall while they were free.

    “And therewith cast I down mine eyes again,
    Whereas I saw, walking under the tower
    Full secretly, new coming her to play,
    The fairest and the freshest young flower
    That ever I saw methought, before that hour,
    For which sudden abate, anon astart,
    The blood of all my body to my heart.”

A lovely lady was walking in the garden, a lady more lovely than he had dreamed any one might be.  Her hair was golden, and wreathed with flowers.  Her dress was rich, and jewels sparkled on her white throat.  Spellbound, he stood a while watching the lovely lady.  He could do nothing but gaze.

    “No wonder was; for why my wits all
    Were so overcome with pleasance and delight,
    Only through letting of mine eyes down fall,
    That suddenly my heart became her thrall,
    For ever of free will.”

Thus, from the first moment in which he saw her, James loved the beautiful lady.  After a few minutes he drew in his head lest she might see him and be angry with him for watching her.  But soon he leaned out again, for while she was in the garden he felt he must watch and see her walk “so womanly.”

So he stood still at the window, and although the lady was far off in the garden, and could not hear him, he whispered to her, telling of his love.  “O sweet,” he said, “are you an earthly creature, or are you a goddess?  How shall I do reverence to you enough, for I love you?  And you, if you will not love me too, why, then have you come?  Have you but come to add to the misery of a poor prisoner?”

Prince James looked, and longed, and sighed, and envied the little dog with which the lovely lady played.  Then he scolded the little birds because they sang no more.  “Where are the songs you chanted this morning?” he asked.  “Why do you not sing now?  Do you not see that the most beautiful lady in all the world is come into your garden?” Then to the nightingale he cried, “Lift up thine heart and sing with good intent.  If thou would sing well ever in thy life, here is i-faith the time—­here is the time or else never.”