|
What sholde I make a lenger tale of this? |
| Unto his brotheres bed he comen is, |
| And swich confort he yaf hym for to gon |
460 | To Orliens that he up stirte anon, |
| And on his wey forthward thanne is he fare |
| In hope for to been lissed of his care. |
| Whan they were come almoost to that citee, |
| But if it were a furlong or three, |
465 | A yong clerk romynge by hymself they mette, |
| Which that in Latyn thriftily hem grette, |
| And after that he seyde a wonder thyng: |
| "I knowe," quod he, "the cause of youre comyng." |
| And er they ferther any foote wente, |
470 | He tolde hem al that was in hire entente. |
|
| Why should I longer speak of this event? |
| He to the bedside of his brother went, |
| And urged him eagerly to get him gone |
460 | To Orleans; he started up anon |
| And forward on his way at once did fare |
| In hope to be relieved of all his care. |
| When they were come almost to that city, |
| Perhaps two furlongs short of it, or three, |
465 | A young clerk walking by himself they met, |
| Who, in good Latin, heartily did greet, |
| And after that he said a wondrous thing. |
| "I know," said he, "the cause of your coming." |
| And before a farther foot the brothers went, |
470 | He told them all the soul of their intent. |
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