longer would she live after his day. The same of noble Porcia tell I may; Withoutë Brutus couldë she not live, To whom she did all whole her heartë give. The perfect wifehood of Artemisie Honoúred is throughout all Barbarie. O Teuta queen, thy wifely chastitý To allë wivës may a mirror be.”
Thus plained Dorigen a day or tway, Purposing ever that she wouldë dey; But natheless upon the thirdë night Home came Arviragus, the worthy knight, And asked her why that she wept so sore. And she gan weepen ever longer more. “Alas,” quoth she, “that ever I was born! Thus have I said,” quoth she; “thus have I sworn.” And told him all, as ye have heard before: It needeth not rehearse it you no more. This husband with glad cheer, in friendly wise, Answér’d and said, as I shall you devise. “Is there aught ellës, Dorigen, but this?” “Nay, nay,” quoth she, “God help me so, as wis This is too much, an’ it were Goddë’s will.” “Yea, wife,” quoth he, “let sleepë what is still, It may be well par’venture yet to-day. Ye shall your trothë holdë, by my fay. For, God so wisly have mercý on me, I had well lever sticked for to be, For very lovë which I to you have, But if ye should your trothë keep and save. Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.” But with that word he burst anon to weep, And said; “I you forbid, on pain of death, That never, while you lasteth life or breath, To no wight tell ye this misáventúre; As I