The other wept, as she to water wo’ld, 3164 Till that the falcon bade her to be still, And with a sigh right thus she said her till: 3165 “Where I was bred (alas that ilkë 3166 day!) And foster’d in a rock of marble gray So tenderly, that nothing ailed me, I wistë not what was adversitý, Till I could flee full high under the sky. Then dwell’d a tercëlet 3167 me fastë by, That seem’d a well of allë gentleness; All were he 3168 full of treason and falsenéss, It was so wrapped under humble cheer, 3169 And under hue of truth, in such mannére, Under pleasánce, and under busy pain, That no wight weened that he couldë feign,