| `But if ye lete him deye, I wol sterve; |
| Have her my trouthe, nece, I nil not lyen; |
| 325 | Al sholde I with this knyf my throte kerve --' |
| With that the teeres braste out of his yen, |
| And seyde, `If that ye doon us bothe dyen, |
| Thus giltelees, than have ye fisshed faire; |
| What mende ye, though that we bothe apeyre? |
| 330 | `Allas! He which that is my lord so dere, |
| That trewe man, that noble gentil knight, |
| That nought desireth but your freendly chere, |
| I see him deye, ther he goth up-right, |
| And hasteth him, with al his fulle might, |
| 335 | For to be slayn, if fortune wol assente; |
| Allas! That God yow swich a beautee sente! |
| `If it be so that ye so cruel be, |
| That of his deeth yow liste nought to recche, |
| That is so trewe and worthy, as ye see, |
| 340 | No more than of a japere or a wrecche, |
| If ye be swich, your beautee may not strecche |
| To make amendes of so cruel a dede; |
| Avysement is good bifore the nede. |
| `And also thenk wel that this is no gaude; |
| For me were levere, thou and I and he |
| Were hanged, than I sholde been his baude, |
| As heyghe, as men mighte on us alle y-see: |
| 355 | I am thyn em, the shame were to me, |
| As wel as thee, if that I sholde assente, |
| Thorugh myn abet, that he thyn honour shente. |
| `Now understond, for I yow nought requere, |
| To binde yow to him thorugh no biheste, |
| 360 | But only that ye make him bettre chere |
| Than ye han doon er this, and more feste, |
| So that his lyf be saved, at the leste; |
| This al and som, and playnly our entente; |
| God help me so, I never other mente. |
| 365 | `Lo, this request is not but skile, y-wis, |
| Ne doute of reson, pardee, is ther noon. |
| I sette the worste that ye dredden this, |
| Men wolden wondren seen him come or goon: |
| Ther-ayeins answere I thus a-noon, |
| 370 | That every wight, but he be fool of kinde, |
| Wol deme it love of freendship in his minde. |
| `What? Who wol deme, though he see a man |
| To temple go, that he the images eteth? |
| Thenk eek how wel and wysly that he can |
| 375 | Governe him-self, that he no-thing foryeteth, |
| That, wher he cometh, he prys and thank him geteth; |
| And eek ther-to, he shal come here so selde, |
| What fors were it though al the toun behelde? |
| `Swich love of freendes regneth al this toun; |
| 380 | And wrye yow in that mantel ever-mo; |
| And God so wis be my savacioun, |
| As I have seyd, your beste is to do so. |
| But alwey, goode nece, to stinte his wo, |
| So lat your daunger sucred ben a lyte, |
| 385 | That of his deeth ye be nought for to wyte.' |
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