she may dien, but she of it have.” “Alas!” quoth he, “that I had here a knave That couldë climb; alas! alas!” quoth he, “For I am blind.” “Yea, Sir, no force,” quoth she; “But would ye vouchësafe, for Goddë’s sake, The perry in your armës for to take (For well I wot that ye mistrustë me), Then would I climbë well enough,” quoth she, “So I my foot might set upon your back.” “Certes,” said he, “therein shall be no lack, Might I you helpë with mine heartë’s blood.”
He stooped down, and on his back she stood, And caught her by a twist, and up she go’th. (Ladies, I pray you that ye be not wroth, I cannot glose, I am a rudë man): And suddenly anon this Damian Gan pullen up the smock, and in he throng. And when that Pluto saw this greatë wrong, To January he gave again his sight, And made him see as well as ever he might. And when he thus had caught his sight again, Was never man of anything so fain: But on his wife his thought was evermo’. Up to the tree he cast his eyen two, And saw how Damian his wife had dress’d, In such mannére, it may not be express’d, But if I wouldë speak uncourteously. And up he gave a roaring and a cry, As doth the mother when the child shall die; “Out! help! alas! harow!” he gan to cry; “O strongë, lady, stowre! what doest thou?”