Were it by destiny, or áventure, Were it by influence, or by natúre, Or constellation, that in such estate The heaven stood at that time fortunate As for to put a bill of Venus’ works (For allë thing hath time, as say these clerks), To any woman for to get her love, I cannot say; but greatë God above, That knoweth that none act is causëless, He deem 2912 of all, for I will hold my peace. But sooth is this, how that this freshë May Hath taken such impressión that day Of pity on this sickë Damian, That from her heartë she not drivë can The remembráncë for to do him ease. 2913 “Certain,” thought she, “whom that this thing displease I reckë not, for here I him assure, To love him best of any creature, Though he no morë haddë than his shirt.” Lo, pity runneth soon in gentle heart. Here may ye see, how excellent franchise