| 890 |
The queene anon, for verray wommanhede, |
| Gan for to wepe, and so dide Emelye, |
| And alle the ladyes in the compaignye. |
| Greet pitee was it, as it thoughte hem alle, |
| That evere swich a chaunce sholde falle. |
| 895 | For gentil men they were of greet estaat, |
| And no thyng but for love was this debaat, |
| And saugh hir blody woundes wyde and soore, |
| And alle crieden, both lasse and moore, |
| "Have mercy, lord, upon us wommen alle!" |
| 900 | And on hir bare knees adoun they falle, |
| And wolde have kist his feet ther as he stood; |
| Til at the laste aslaked was his mood, |
| For pitee renneth soone in gentil herte. |
| And though he first for ire quook and sterte, |
| 905 | He hath considered shortly in a clause |
| The trespas of hem bothe, and eek the cause, |
| And although that his ire hir gilt accused, |
| Yet in his resoun he hem bothe excused. |
| As thus: he thoghte wel, that every man |
| 910 | Wol helpe hymself in love, if that he kan, |
| And eek delivere hym-self out of prisoun; |
| And eek his herte hadde compassioun |
| Of wommen, for they wepen evere in oon. |
| And in his gentil herte he thoughte anon, |
| 915 | And softe unto hymself he seyde, "Fy |
| Upon a lord that wol have no mercy, |
| But been a leon, bothe in word and dede, |
| To hem that been in repentaunce and drede, |
| As wel as to a proud despitous man, |
| 920 | That wol maynteyne that he first bigan. |
| That lord hath litel of discrecioun |
| That in swich cas kan no divisioun, |
| But weyeth pride and humblesse after oon." |
| And shortly, whan his ire is thus agoon, |
| 925 | He gan to looken up with eyen lighte, |
| And spak thise same wordes al on highte: |
|
| 890 | But then the queen, whose heart for pity bled, |
| Began to weep, and so did Emily |
| And all the ladies in the company. |
| Great pity must it be, so thought they all, |
| That ever such misfortune should befall: |
| 895 | For these were gentlemen, of great estate, |
| And for no thing, except love, was their debate. |
| They saw their bloody wounds, so sore and wide, |
| And all cried out- greater and less, they cried: |
| "Have mercy, lord, upon us women all!" |
| 900 | And down upon their bare knees did they fall, |
| And would have kissed his feet there where he stood, |
| Till at the last assuaged was his high mood; |
| For soon will pity flow through gentle heart. |
| And though he first for ire did shake and start, |
| 905 | He soon considered, to state the case in brief, |
| What cause they had for fighting, what for grief; |
| And though his anger still their guilt accused, |
| Yet in his reason he held them both excused; |
| In such wise: he thought well that every man |
| 910 | Will help himself in love, if he but can, |
| And will himself deliver from prison; |
| And, too, at heart he had compassion on |
| Those women, for they cried and wept as one, |
| And in his gentle heart he thought anon, |
| 915 | And softly to himself he said then: "Fie |
| Upon a lord that will have no mercy, |
| But acts the lion, both in word and deed, |
| To those repentant and in fear and need, |
| As well as to the proud and pitiless man |
| 920 | That still would do the thing that he began! |
| That lord must surely in discretion lack |
| Who, in such case, can no distinction make, |
| But weighs both proud and humble in one scale." |
| And shortly, when his ire was thus grown pale, |
| 925 | He looked up to the sky, with eyes alight, |
| And spoke these words, as he would promise plight: |
|
