“Away,” 4282 quoth she, “fy on you, heartëless! 4283 Alas!” quoth she, “for, by that God above! Now have ye lost my heart and all my love; I cannot love a coward, by my faith. For certes, what so any woman saith, We all desiren, if it mightë be, To have husbandës hardy, wise, and free, And secret, and no niggard nor no fool, Nor him that is aghast 4284 of every tool, 4285 Nor no avantour, 4286 by that God above! How durstë ye for shame say to your love That anything might makë you afear’d? Have ye no mannë’s heart, and have a beard? Alas! and can ye be aghast of swevenës? 4287 Nothing but vanity, God wot, in sweven is,