The Prologue

he and shame. For it is earnest to me, by my faith; That feel I well, what so any man saith; And yet for all my smart, and all my grief, For all my sorrow, labour, and mischíef, I couldë never leave it in no wise. Now would to God my wittë might suffice To tellen all that longeth to that art! But natheless yet will I tellë part; Since that my lord is gone, I will not spare; Such thing as that I know, I will declare.”