This widë world, which that men say is round, I would it give, if I were lord of it. This bargain is full-driv’n, for we be knit; 3333 Ye shall be payed truly by my troth. But lookë, for no negligence or sloth, Ye tarry us here no longer than to-morrow.” “Nay,” quoth the clerk, “have here my faith to borrow.” 3334 To bed is gone Aurelius when him lest, And well-nigh all that night he had his rest, What for his labour, and his hope of bliss, His woeful heart of penance had a liss. 3335