and bright as is the youngë sun That in the Ram is four degrees y-run; No higher was he, when she ready was; And forth she walked easily a pace, Array’d after the lusty season swoot, Lightëly for to play, and walk on foot, Nought but with five or six of her meinie; And in a trench forth in the park went she. The vapour, which up from the earthë glode, Made the sun to seem ruddy and broad: But, natheless, it was so fair a sight That it made all their heartës for to light, What for the season and the morrowning, And for the fowlës that she heardë sing. For right anon she wistë what they meant Right by their song, and knew all their intent. The knottë, why that every tale is told, If it be tarried till the lust be cold Of them that have it hearken’d after yore, The savour passeth ever longer more, For fulsomness of the prolixitý: And by that samë reason thinketh me I should unto the knottë condescend, And maken of her walking soon an end.
Amid a tree fordry, as white as chalk, As Canacé was playing in her walk, There sat a falcon o’er her head full high, That with a piteous voice so gan to cry; That all the wood resounded of her cry, And beat she had herself so piteouslý With both her wingës, till the reddë blood Ran endëlong the tree, there as she stood. And ever-in-one alway she cried and shright, And with her beak herselfë she so pight, That there is no tiger, nor cruel beast, That dwelleth either in wood or in forést; But would have wept, if that he weepë could, For sorrow of her, she shriek’d alway so loud. For there was never yet no man alive, If that he could a falcon well descrive; That heard of such another of fairnéss As well of plumage, as of gentleness, Of shape, of all that mightë reckon’d be. A falcon peregrinë seemed she, Of fremdë land; and ever as she stood She swooned now and now for lack of blood, Till well-nigh is she fallen from the tree.
This fairë kingë’s daughter Canacé, That on her finger bare the quaintë ring, Through which she understood well every thing That any fowl may in his leden sayn, And could him answer in his leden again, Hath understoodë what this falcon said, And well-nigh for the ruth almost she