keep my lord, this is my conclusión: To clerks leave I all disputatión: But would to God that all these rockës blake Were sunken into hellë for his sake! These rockës slay mine heartë for the fear.” Thus would she say, with many a piteous tear.
Her friendës saw that it was no disport To roamë by the sea, but discomfórt, And shope them for to playë somewhere else. They leadë her by rivers and by wells, And eke in other places delectábles; They dancen, and they play at chess and tables. So on a day, right in the morning-tide, Unto a garden that was there beside, In which that they had made their ordinance Of victual, and of other purveyánce, They go and play them all the longë day: And this was on the sixth morrow of May, Which May had painted with his softë show’rs This garden full of leavës and of flow’rs: And craft of mannë’s hand so curiously Arrayed had this garden truëly, That never was there garden of such price, But if it were the very Paradise. Th’ odoúr of flowers, and the freshë sight, Would havë maked any heartë light That e’er was born, but if too great sicknéss Or too great sorrow held it in distress; So full it was of beauty and pleasánce. And after dinner they began to dance And sing also, save Dorigen alone, Who made alway her cómplaint and her moan, For she saw not him on the dancë go That was her husband, and her love also; But natheless she must a time abide, And with good hopë let her sorrow slide.
Upon this dance, amongë other men, Danced a squiër before Dorigen, That fresher was, and jollier of array, As to my doom, than is the month of May. He sang and danced, passing any man That is or was since that the world began; Therewith he was, if men should him descrive, One of the bestë faring men alive, Young, strong, and virtuous, and rich, and wise, And well belov’d, and holden in great price. And, shortly if the sooth I tellë shall, Unweeting of this Dorigen at all, This lusty squiër, servant to Venús, Which that y-called was Aurelius, Had lov’d her best of any creatúre Two year and more, as was his áventúre; But never durst he tell her his grievánce; Withoutë cup he drank all his penánce. He was