|
Aurelius, that his cost hath al forlorn |
| 850 | Curseth the tyme that evere he was born. |
| "Allas," quod he, "allas, that I bihighte |
| Of pured gold a thousand pound of wighte |
| Unto this philosophre! How shal I do? |
| I se namoore but that I am fordo; |
| 855 | Myn heritage moot I nedes selle |
| And been a beggere; heere may I nat dwelle, |
| And shamen al my kynrede in this place, |
| But I of hym may gete bettre grace. |
| But nathelees I wole of hym assaye |
| 860 | At certeyn dayes yeer by yeer to paye, |
| And thanke hym of his grete curteisye; |
| My trouthe wol I kepe, I wol nat lye." |
|
| Aurelius, whose wealth was now forlorn, |
| 850 | He cursed the time that ever he was born; |
| "Alas!" cried he, "Alas! that I did state |
| I'd pay fine gold a thousand pounds by weight |
| To this philosopher! What shall I do? |
| I see no better than I'm ruined too. |
| 855 | All of my heritage I needs must sell |
| And be a beggar; here I cannot dwell |
| And shame all of my kindred in this place, |
| Unless I gain of him some better grace. |
| And so I'll go to him and try, today, |
| 860 | On certain dates, from year to year, to pay, |
| And thank him for his princely courtesy; |
| For I will keep my word, and I'll not lie." |
|
