“Now say they thus, ‘When Walter is y-gone, Then shall the blood of Janicol’ succeed, And be our lord, for other have we none:’ Such wordës say my people, out of drede. Well ought I of such murmur takë heed, For certainly I dread all such senténce, Though they not plainen in mine audiénce.
“I wouldë live in peace, if that I might; Wherefore I am disposed utterly, As I his sister served ere by night, Right so think I to serve him privily. This warn I you, that ye not suddenly Out of yourself for no woe should outraie; Be patient, and thereof I you pray.”
“I have,” quoth she, “said thus, and ever shall, I will no thing, nor n’ill no thing, certáin, But as you list; not grieveth me at all Though that my daughter and my son be slain At your commandëment; that is to sayn, I have not had no part of children twain, But first sicknéss, and after woe and pain.
“Ye be my lord, do with your owen thing Right as you list, and ask no rede of me: For, as I left at home all my clothing When I came first to you, right so,” quoth she, “Left I my will and all my liberty, And took your clothing: wherefore I you pray, Do your pleasánce, I will your lust obey.
“And, certes, if I haddë prescience Your will to know, ere ye your lust me told, I would it do withoutë negligence: But, now I know your lust, and what ye wo’ld, All your pleasancë firm and stable I hold; For, wist I that my death might do you ease, Right gladly would I dien you to please.
“Death may not makë no comparisoún Unto your love.” And when this marquis say The constance of his wife, he cast adown His eyen two, and wonder’d how she may In patience suffer all this array; And forth he went with dreary countenance; But to his heart it was full great pleasánce.