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"Avoy!" quod she, "fy on yow hertelees! |
| Allas," quod she, "for by that God above |
| Now han ye lost myn herte and al my love! |
| 145 | I kan nat love a coward, by my feith, |
| For certes, what so any womman seith, |
| We alle desiren, if it myghte bee, |
| To han housbondes hardy, wise, and free, |
| And secree, and no nygard, ne no fool, |
| 150 | Ne hym that is agast of every tool, |
| Ne noon avauntour; by that God above! |
| How dorste ye seyn for shame unto youre love |
| That any thyng myghte make yow aferd? |
| Have ye no mannes herte, and han a berd? |
| 155 | Allas! and konne ye been agast of swevenys? |
| Nothyng, God woot, but vanitee in swevene is! |
| Swevenes engendren of replecciouns, |
| And ofte of fume and of complecciouns, |
| Whan humours been to habundant in a wight. |
| 160 | Certes, this dreem which ye han met tonyght |
| Cometh of greet superfluytee |
| Of youre rede colera, pardee, |
| Which causeth folk to dreden in hir dremes |
| Of arwes, and of fyre with rede lemes, |
| 165 | Of grete beestes, that they wol hem byte, |
| Of contek, and of whelpes grete and lyte; |
| Right as the humour of malencolie |
| Causeth ful many a man in sleep to crie |
| For feere of blake beres, or boles blake, |
| 170 | Or elles blake develes wole him take. |
| Of othere humours koude I telle also |
| That werken many a man in sleep ful wo, |
| But I wol passe as lightly as I kan. |
| Lo Catoun, which that was so wys a man, |
| 175 | Seyde he nat thus, `Ne do no fors of dremes`? |
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"Aha," said she, "fie on you, spiritless! |
| Alas!" cried she, "for by that God above, |
| Now have you lost my heart and all my love; |
| 145 | I cannot love a coward, by my faith. |
| For truly, whatsoever woman saith, |
| We all desire, if only it may be, |
| To have a husband hardy, wise, and free, |
| And trustworthy, no niggard, and no fool, |
| 150 | Nor one that is afraid of every tool, |
| Nor yet a braggart, by that God above! |
| How dare you say, for shame, unto your love |
| That there is anything that you have feared? |
| Have you not man's heart, and yet have a beard? |
| 155 | Alas! And are you frightened by a vision? |
| Dreams are, God knows, a matter for derision. |
| Visions are generated by repletions |
| And vapours and the body's bad secretions |
| Of humours overabundant in a wight. |
| 160 | Surely this dream, which you have had tonight, |
| Comes only of the superfluity |
| Of your bilious irascibility, |
| Which causes folk to shiver in their dreams |
| For arrows and for flames with long red gleams, |
| 165 | For great beasts in the fear that they will bite, |
| For quarrels and for wolf whelps great and slight; |
| Just as the humour of melancholy |
| Causes full many a man, in sleep, to cry, |
| For fear of black bears or of bulls all black, |
| 170 | Or lest black devils put them in a sack. |
| Of other humours could I tell also, |
| That bring, to many a sleeping man, great woe; |
| But I'll pass on as lightly as I can. |
| Lo, Cato, and he was a full wise man, |
| 175 | Said he not, 'we should not trouble for dreams?' |
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