1900 a-bed, there haddë they mischance, There would I chide, and do them no pleasance: I would no longer in the bed abide, If that I felt his arm over my side, Till he had made his ransom unto me, Then would I suffer him do his nicetý. 1901 And therefore every man this tale I tell, Win whoso may, for all is for to sell; With empty hand men may no hawkës lure; For winning would I all his will endure, And makë me a feigned appetite⁠— And yet in bacon 1902 had I never delight: That made me that I ever would them chide. For, though the Pope had sitten them beside, I would not spare them at their owen board, For, by my troth, I quit 1903 them word for word. As help me very God omnipotent, Though I right now should make my testament,