And so befell, that in a dawëning, As Chanticleer among his wivës all Sat on his perchë, that was in the hall, And next him sat this fairë Partelote, This Chanticleer gan groanen in his throat, As man that in his dream is dretched 4273 sore, And when that Partelote thus heard him roar, She was aghast, 4274 and saidë, “Heartë dear, What aileth you to groan in this mannére? Ye be a very sleeper, fy for shame!” And he answer’d and saidë thus; “Madame, I pray you that ye take it not agrief; 4275 By God, me mette 4276 I was in such mischíef, 4277 Right now, that yet mine heart is sore affright’. Now God,” quoth he, “my sweven 4278