“This lasted longer than a year or two, That I supposed of him naught but good. But finally, thus at the last it stood, That fortune wouldë that he mustë twin 3187 Out of that placë which that I was in. Whe’er 3188 me was woe, it is no questión; I cannot make of it descriptión. For one thing dare I tellë boldëly, I know what is the pain of death thereby; Such harm I felt, for he might not byleve. 3189 So on a day of me he took his leave, So sorrowful eke, that I ween’d verily, That he had felt as muchë harm as I, When that I heard him speak, and saw his hue. But natheless, I thought he was so true, And eke that he repairë should again Within a little whilë, sooth to sayn, And reason would eke that he mustë go For his honoúr, as often happ’neth so, That I made virtue of necessitý,