world to win, She would not do that villainy or sin, To make her husband have so foul a name: She would not tell it for her owen shame. But natheless her thoughtë that she died, That she so longë should a counsel hide; Her thought it swell’d so sore about her heart, That needës must some word from her astart; And, since she durst not tell it unto man, Down to a marish fast thereby she ran, Till she came there, her heart was all afire: And, as a bittern bumbles in the mire, She laid her mouth unto the water down. “Bewray me not, thou water, with thy soun’,” Quoth she, “to thee I tell it, and no mo’, Mine husband hath long ass’s earës two! Now is mine heart all whole; now is it out; I might no longer keep it, out of doubt.” Here may ye see, though we a time abide, Yet out it must, we can no counsel hide. The remnant of the tale, if ye will hear, Read in Ovíd, and there ye may it lear.
This knight, of whom my tale is specially, When that he saw he might not come thereby— That is to say, what women love the most— Within his breast full sorrowful was his ghost. But home he went, for he might not sojourn, The day was come, that homeward he must turn. And in his way it happen’d him to ride, In all his care, under a forest side, Where as he saw upon a dancë go Of ladies four-and-twenty, and yet mo’, Toward this ilkë dance he drew full yern, The hope that he some wisdom there should learn; But certainly, ere he came fully there, Y-vanish’d was this dance, he knew not where; No creaturë saw he that bare life, Save on the green he sitting saw a wife— A fouler wight there may no man devise. Against this knight this old wife gan to rise, And said, “Sir Knight, hereforth lieth no way. Tell me what ye are seeking, by your fay. Paráventure it may the better be: These oldë folk know muchë thing,” quoth she. “My levë mother,” quoth this knight, “certáin, I am but dead, but if that I can sayn What thing it is that women most desire: Could ye me wiss, I would well quite your hire.” “Plight me thy troth here in mine hand,” quoth she, “The nextë thing that I require of thee Thou shalt it do, if it be in thy might, And I will tell it thee ere it be night.” “Have here my trothë,” quoth the knight; “I grant.” “Thennë,” quoth she, “I dare