The Canterbury Tales [163]
That evermore mine honour and renown Were saved, bothe *privy and apert;* *privately and in public* This is to say, that, after his desert, I gave him all my heart and all my thought (God wot, and he, that *other wayes nought*), *in no other way* And took his heart in change of mine for aye. But sooth is said, gone since many a day, A true wight and a thiefe *think not one.* *do not think alike* And when he saw the thing so far y-gone, That I had granted him fully my love, In such a wise as I have said above, And given him my true heart as free As he swore that he gave his heart to me, Anon this tiger, full of doubleness, Fell on his knees with so great humbleness, With so high reverence, as by his cheer,* *mien So like a gentle lover in mannere, So ravish'd, as it seemed, for the joy, That never Jason, nor Paris of Troy, -- Jason? certes, nor ever other man, Since Lamech <31> was, that alderfirst* began *first of all To love two, as write folk beforn, Nor ever since the firste man was born, Coulde no man, by twenty thousand Counterfeit the sophimes* of his art; *sophistries, beguilements Where doubleness of feigning should approach, Nor worthy were t'unbuckle his galoche,* *shoe <32> Nor could so thank a wight, as he did me. His manner was a heaven for to see To any woman, were she ne'er so wise; So painted he and kempt,* *at point devise,* *combed, studied As well his wordes as his countenance. *with perfect precision* And I so lov'd him for his obeisance, And for the truth I deemed in his heart, That, if so were that any thing him smart,* *pained All were it ne'er so lite,* and I it wist, *little Methought I felt death at my hearte twist. And shortly, so farforth this thing is went,* *gone That my will was his wille's instrument; That is to say, my will obey'd his will In alle thing, as far as reason fill,* *fell; allowed Keeping the boundes of my worship ever; And never had I thing *so lefe, or lever,* *so dear, or dearer* As him, God wot, nor never shall no mo'.
"This lasted longer than a year or two, That I supposed of him naught but good. But finally, thus at the last it stood, That fortune woulde that he muste twin* *depart, separate Out of that place which that I was in. Whe'er* me was woe, it is no question; *whether I cannot make of it description. For one thing dare I telle boldely, I know what is the pain of death thereby; Such harm I felt, for he might not byleve.* *stay <33> So on a day of me he took his leave, So sorrowful eke, that I ween'd verily, That he had felt as muche harm as I, When that I heard him speak, and saw his hue. But natheless, I thought he was so true, And eke that he repaire should again Within a little while, sooth to sayn, And reason would eke that he muste go For his honour, as often happ'neth so, That I made virtue of necessity, And took it well, since that it muste be. As I best might, I hid from him my sorrow, And took him by the hand, Saint John to borrow,* *witness, pledge And said him thus; 'Lo, I am youres all; Be such as I have been to you, and shall.' What he answer'd, it needs not to rehearse; Who can say bet* than he, who can do worse? *better When he had all well said, then had he done. Therefore behoveth him a full long spoon, That shall eat with a fiend; thus heard I say. So at the last he muste forth his way, And forth he flew, till he came where him lest. When it came him to purpose for to rest, I trow that he had thilke text in mind, That alle thing repairing to his kind Gladdeth himself; <34> thus say men, as I guess; *Men love of [proper] kind newfangleness,* *see note <35>* As birdes do, that men in cages feed. For though thou night and day take of them heed, And strew their cage fair and soft as silk, And give them sugar, honey, bread, and milk, Yet, *right
"This lasted longer than a year or two, That I supposed of him naught but good. But finally, thus at the last it stood, That fortune woulde that he muste twin* *depart, separate Out of that place which that I was in. Whe'er* me was woe, it is no question; *whether I cannot make of it description. For one thing dare I telle boldely, I know what is the pain of death thereby; Such harm I felt, for he might not byleve.* *stay <33> So on a day of me he took his leave, So sorrowful eke, that I ween'd verily, That he had felt as muche harm as I, When that I heard him speak, and saw his hue. But natheless, I thought he was so true, And eke that he repaire should again Within a little while, sooth to sayn, And reason would eke that he muste go For his honour, as often happ'neth so, That I made virtue of necessity, And took it well, since that it muste be. As I best might, I hid from him my sorrow, And took him by the hand, Saint John to borrow,* *witness, pledge And said him thus; 'Lo, I am youres all; Be such as I have been to you, and shall.' What he answer'd, it needs not to rehearse; Who can say bet* than he, who can do worse? *better When he had all well said, then had he done. Therefore behoveth him a full long spoon, That shall eat with a fiend; thus heard I say. So at the last he muste forth his way, And forth he flew, till he came where him lest. When it came him to purpose for to rest, I trow that he had thilke text in mind, That alle thing repairing to his kind Gladdeth himself; <34> thus say men, as I guess; *Men love of [proper] kind newfangleness,* *see note <35>* As birdes do, that men in cages feed. For though thou night and day take of them heed, And strew their cage fair and soft as silk, And give them sugar, honey, bread, and milk, Yet, *right