|
"Nay, nay," quod she, "God helpe me so, as wys, |
| This is to muche, and it were Goddes wille." |
| "Ye, wyf," quod he, "lat slepen that is stille. |
| 765 | It may be wel paraventure yet to-day. |
| Ye shul youre trouthe holden, by my fay. |
| For God so wisly have mercy upon me, |
| I hadde wel levere ystiked for to be |
| For verray love which that I to yow have, |
| 770 | But if ye sholde your trouthe kepe and save. |
| Trouthe is the hyeste thyng that man may kepe." |
| But with that word he brast anon to wepe |
| And seyde, "I yow forbede, up peyne of deeth, |
| That nevere whil thee lasteth lyf ne breeth, |
| 775 | To no wight telle thou of this aventure - |
| As I may best, I wol my wo endure, - |
| Ne make no contenance of hevynesse, |
| That folk of yow may demen harm or gesse." |
|
| "Nay, nay," said she, "God help me, as it is |
| This is too much, though it were God's own will." |
| "Yea, wife," said he, "let sleep what's lying still; |
| 765 | It may be well with us, perchance, today. |
| But you your word shall hold to, by my fay! |
| As God may truly mercy have on me, |
| Wounded to death right now I'd rather be, |
| For sake of this great love of you I have, |
| 770 | Than you should not your true word keep and save. |
| Truth is the highest thing that man may keep." |
| But with that word began he then to weep, |
| And said: "I you forbid, on pain of death, |
| That ever, while to you last life and breath, |
| 775 | To anyone you tell this adventure. |
| As I best may, I will my woe endure, |
| Nor show a countenance of heaviness, |
| That folk no harm may think of you, or guess." |
|
