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From The Merchant's Tale, lines 937-947:
Maia stealthly signs to Damian and they go to the garden
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From The Canterbury Tales:
The Merchant's Tale
lines 948-972: In the garden, January affirms his love to Maia

       "Now wyf," quod he, "heere nys but thou and I,
That art the creature that I best love.
950For by that lord that sit in hevene above,
Levere ich hadde to dyen on a knyf,
Than thee offende, trewe deere wyf!
For Goddes sake, thenk how I thee chees,
Noght for no coveitise, doutelees,
955But oonly for the love I had to thee.
And though that I be oold, and may nat see,
Beth to me trewe, and I wol telle yow why.
Thre thynges, certes, shal ye wynne therby:
First, love of Crist, and to youreself honour,
960And al myn heritage, toun and tour;
I yeve it yow, maketh chartres as yow leste;
This shal be doon to-morwe er sonne reste,
So wisly God my soule brynge in blisse.
I prey yow first, in covenant ye me kisse;
965And though that I be jalous, wyte me noght.
Ye been so depe enprented in my thoght
That, whan that I considere youre beautee,
And therwithal the unlikly elde of me,
I may nat, certes, though I sholde dye,
970Forbere to been out of youre compaignye
For verray love; this is withouten doute.
Now kys me, wyf, and lat us rome aboute."
       "Now, wife," said he, "here's none but you and I,
And you're the one of all that I best love.
950For by that Lord Who sits in Heaven above,
Far rather would I die upon a knife
Than do offence to you, my true, dear wife!
For God's sake how I did choose you out,
And for no love of money, beyond doubt,
955But only for the love you roused in me.
And though I am grown old and cannot see,
Be true to me, and I will tell you why.
Three things, it's certain, shall you gain thereby;
First, Christ's dear love, and honour of your own,
960And all my heritage of tower and town;
I give it you, draw deeds to please you, pet;
This shall be done tomorrow before sunset.
So truly may God bring my soul to bliss,
I pray you first, in covenant, that we kiss.
965And though I'm jealous, yet reproach me not.
You are so deeply printed in my thought
That, when I do consider your beauty
And therewith all the unlovely age of me,
I cannot, truly, nay, though I should die,'
970Abstain from being in your company,
For utter love; of this there is no doubt.
Now kiss me, wife, and let us walk about."

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From The Merchant's Tale, lines 973-994:
Maia affirms her love to her husband January