A leman had this noble champión, That hightë Dejanira, fresh as May; And, as these clerkës makë mentión, She hath him sent a shirtë fresh and gay; Alas! this shirt, alas and well-away! Envenomed was subtilly withal, That ere that he had worn it half a day, It made his flesh all from his bonës fall.

But natheless some clerkës her excuse By one, that hightë Nessus, that it maked; Be as he may, I will not her accuse; But on his back this shirt he wore all naked, Till that his flesh was for the venom blaked. 4070 And when he saw none other remedy, In hotë coals he hath himselfë raked, For with no venom deigned he to die.