heritage, oh! woe were us on live: Wherefore we pray you hastily to wive.”
Their meekë prayer and their piteous cheer Made the marquis for to have pitý. “Ye will,” quoth he, “mine owen people dear, To that I ne’er ere thought constrainë me. I me rejoiced of my liberty, That seldom time is found in marriáge; Where I was free, I must be in serváge!
“But natheless I see your true intent, And trust upon your wit, and have done aye: Wherefore of my free will I will assent To weddë me, as soon as e’er I may. But whereas ye have proffer’d me to-day To choosë me a wife, I you release That choice, and pray you of that proffer cease.
“For God it wot, that children often been Unlike their worthy elders them before, Bounté comes all of God, not of the strene Of which they be engender’d and y-bore: I trust in Goddë’s bounté, and therefore My marriage, and mine estate and rest, I him betake; he may do as him lest.
“Let me alone in choosing of my wife; That charge upon my back I will endure: But I you pray, and charge upon your life, That what wife that I take, ye me assure To worship her, while that her life may dure, In word and work both here and ellëswhere, As she an emperorë’s daughter were.
“And farthermore this shall ye swear, that ye Against my choice shall never grudge nor strive. For since I shall forego my liberty At your request, as ever may I thrive, Where as mine heart is set, there will I wive And but ye will assent in such mannére, I pray you speak no more of this mattére.”
With heartly will they sworen and assent’ To all this thing, there said not one wight nay: Beseeching him of grace, ere that they went, That he would grantë them a certain day Of his espousal, soon as e’er he may, For yet always the people somewhat dread Lest that the marquis wouldë no wife wed.