Ye shall your trothë holdë, by my fay. For, God so wisly 3384 have mercý on me, I had well lever sticked for to be, 3385 For very lovë which I to you have, But if ye should your trothë keep and save. Truth is the highest thing that man may keep.” But with that word he burst anon to weep, And said; “I you forbid, on pain of death, That never, while you lasteth life or breath, To no wight tell ye this misáventúre; As I may best, I will my woe endure, Nor make no countenance of heaviness, That folk of you may deemë harm, or guess.” And forth he call’d a squiër and a maid. “Go forth anon with Dorigen,” he said, “And bringë her to such a place anon.” They take their leave, and on their way they gon: But they not wistë why she thither went; He would to no wight tellë his intent.