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|  | Aurelius ful ofte soore siketh, |  |  | Wo was Aurelie, whan that he this herde, |  | 300 | And with a sorweful herte he thus answered. |  |  | "Madame," quod he, "this were an inpossible; |  |  | Thanne moot I dye of sodeyn deth horrible." |  |  | And with that word he turned hym anon. |  |  | Tho coome hir othere freendes many oon, |  | 305 | And in the aleyes romeden up and doun, |  |  | And nothyng wiste of this conclusioun, |  |  | But sodeynly bigonne revel newe, |  |  | Til that the brighte sonne loste his hewe, |  |  | For th'orisonte hath reft the sonne his lyght - |  | 310 | This is as muche to seye as it was nyght - |  |  | And hoom they goon in joye and in solas, |  |  | Save oonly wrecche Aurelius, allas! |  |  | He to his hous is goon with sorweful herte; |  |  | He seeth he may nat fro his deeth asterte; |  | 315 | Hym semed that he felte his herte colde; |  |  | Up to the hevene hise handes he gan holde, |  |  | And on hise knowes bare he sette hym doun, |  |  | And in his ravyng seyde his orisoun. |  |  | For verray wo out of his wit he breyde; |  | 320 | He nyste what he spak, but thus he seyde: |  |  | With pitous herte his pleynt hath he bigonne |  |  | Unto the goddes, and first unto the sonne |  | 
|  | Deep sighs Aurelius did then emit; |  |  | Woe was Aurelius when this he heard, |  | 300 | And with a sorrowful heart he thus answered: |  |  | "Madam," said he, "this were impossible! |  |  | Then must I die a sudden death and fell." |  |  | And with that word he turned away anon. |  |  | Then came her other friends, and many a one, |  | 305 | And in the alleys wandered up and down, |  |  | And nothing knew of this decision shown, |  |  | But suddenly began to dance anew |  |  | Until the bright sun lost his golden hue; |  |  | For the horizon had cut off his light; |  | 310 | This is as much as saying, it was night. |  |  | And home they went in joy and with solace, |  |  | Except the wretch Aurelius, alas! |  |  | He to his house went with a woeful heart; |  |  | He saw he could not from his near death part. |  | 315 | It seemed to him he felt his heart grow cold; |  |  | Up toward Heaven his two hands did he hold, |  |  | And on his bare knees did he kneel him down |  |  | And in his raving said his orison. |  |  | For very woe out of his wits he fled. |  | 320 | He knew not what he spoke, but thus he said; |  |  | With mournful heart his plaint had he begun |  |  | Unto the gods, and first unto the sun. |  |