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From The Merchant's Tale, lines 1025-1051:
Pluto pities the deceived knight and says he will return the power of vision to January
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From The Canterbury Tales:
The Merchant's Tale
lines 1052-1098: Proserpine pities Maia and says she will enhance Maia's power of speech

       Ye shal?" quod Proserpyne, "wol ye so?
Now by my moodres sires soule I swere
That I shal yeven hire suffisant answere,
1055And alle wommen after, for hir sake;
That, though they be in any gilt ytake,
With face boold they shulle hemself excuse,
And bere hem doun that wolden hem accuse.
For lak of answere noon of hem shal dyen.
1060Al hadde man seyn a thyng with bothe his yen,
Yit shul we wommen visage it hardily,
And wepe, and swere, and chyde subtilly,
So that ye man shul been as lewed as gees.
What rekketh me of youre auctoritees?
1065I woot wel that this Jew, this Salomon,
Foond of us wommen fooles many oon.
But though that he ne foond no good womman,
Yet hath ther founde many another man
Wommen ful trewe, ful goode, and vertuous.
1070Witnesse on hem that dwelle in cristes hous;
With martirdom they preved hire constance.
The Romayn geestes eek make remembrance
Of many a verray, trewe wyf also.
But, sire, ne be nat wrooth, al be it so,
1075Though that he seyde he foond no good womman,
I prey yow take the sentence of the man;
He mente thus, that in sovereyn bontee
Nis noon but god, but neither he ne she.
       You shall," said Proserpine, "if will you so;
Now by my mother's father's soul, I swear
That I will give her adequate answer,
1055And all such women after, for her sake;
That, though in any guilt caught, they'll not quake,
But with a bold face they'll themselves excuse,
And bear him down who would them thus accuse.
For lack of answer none of them shall die.
1060Nay, though a man see things with either eye,
Yet shall we women brazen shamelessly
And weep and swear and wrangle cleverly,
So that you men shall stupid be as geese.
What do I care for your authorities?
1065"I know well that this Jew, this Solomon
Found fools among us women, yes many one,
But though he never found a good woman,
Yet has there found full many another man
Women right true, right good, and virtuous
1070Witness all those that dwell in Jesus' house;
With martyrdom they proved their constancy.
The Gesta Romanorum speak kindly
Of many wives both good and true also.
But be not angry, sir, though it be so
1075That he said he had found no good woman,
I pray you take the meaning of the man;
He meant that sovereign goodness cannot be.
Except in God, Who is the Trinity.
       Ey! for verray god, that nys but oon,
1080What make ye so muche of Salomon?
What though he made a temple, goddes hous?
What though he were riche and glorious?
So made he eek a temple of false goddis.
How myghte he do a thyng that moore forbode is?
1085Pardee, as faire as ye his name emplastre,
He was a lecchour and an ydolastre,
And in his elde he verray God forsook;
And if this God ne hadde, as seith the book,
Yspared hem for his fadres sake, he sholde
1090Have lost his regne rather than he wolde.
I sette right noght, of al the vileynye
That ye of wommen write, a boterflye!
I am a womman, nedes moot I speke,
Of elles swelle til myn herte breke.
1095For sithen he seyde that we been jangleresses,
As evere hool I moote brouke my tresses,
I shal nat spare, for no curteisye,
To speke hym harm that wolde us vileynye."
       Ah, since of very God there is but one,
1080Why do you make so much of Solomon?
What though he built a temple for God's house?
What though he were both rich and glorious?
So built he, too, a temple to false gods,
How could he with the Law be more at odds?
1085By gad, clean as his name you whitewash, sir,
He was a lecher and idolater;
And in old age the True God he forsook.
And if that God had not, as says the Book,
Spared him for father David's sake, he should
1090Have lost his kingdom sooner than he would.
I value not, of all the villainy
That you of women write, a butterfly.
I am a woman, and needs must I speak,
Or else swell up until my heart shall break.
1095For since he said we gossip, rail, and scold,
As ever may I my fair tresses hold,
I will not spare, for any courtesy,
To speak him ill who'd wish us villainy."

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From The Merchant's Tale, lines 1099-1107:
Pluto and Proserpine stop arguing, however they both affirm their previous promise