Look how a sick man for his heal
Taketh baldemoyn with the canele,3
And with the myrrh taketh the sugre,
Right upon such a manner lucre
Stands Florent, as, in this diete,
He drinketh the bitter with the sweet;
He medleth sorrow with liking,
And liveth so (as who saith) dying.
His youth shall be cast away
Upon such one, which as the way
Is old and loathly over all.
But, need he must that need shall.
He would, algate his truth hold,
As every knight thereto is hold,
What hap soever him is befall.
Though she be foulest of all,
Yet, to honour of woman-hed,
Him thought he should taken heed :
So that, for pure gentleness,
As he her couth best address,
In rags, as she was to-tore,
He set her on his horse to-fore,
• Perhaps a mistake of the copyist for bolearmene, i. e. Armenian bole, once thought a specific against poison, &c.
And forth he taketh his way soft.
No wonder if he sigheth oft!
But, as an owl flieth by night
Out of all other birdés' sight,
Right so this knight, on days broad,
In close him held; and shope his road
On nighte's time, (till the tide1
That he come there he would abide)
And privily, without noise,
He bringeth this foul great coyse2
To his castle, in such a wise
That no man might her shape avise,
Till she into the chamber came,
Where he his privy council name,3
Of such men as he most trust;
And told them, that he needs must
This beast wed to his wife,
Or else had he lost his life.
The privy women were a-sent,
That shoulden be of his assent:
Her rags they anon off draw,,
And, as it was that time law,
She had bath, she had rest,
And was arrayed to the best.
But with no craft of combs broad
They might her hoar locks shode,1
And she ne would not be shore 2
For no counsel: and they therefore,
With such a tire as tho was used,
Ordainen that it was excused;
And had so craftily about
That no man might seen them out.
But when she was fully array'd,
And her attire was all assay'd,
Tho was she fouler unto see!
But yet it may none other be:
They were wedded in the night,
So woe-begone was never knight
As he was then of marriage!
And she began to play and rage,
As who saith I am well enough.
(But he thereof nothing ne lough 4)
For she took then cheer on hand
And clepeth 5 him her husband,
And saith, "My Lord, go we to bed!
"For I to that intent thee wed,
Shed, i. c. separate, disentangle.
"That thou shalt be my world's bliss ;"
And proffereth him with that to kiss,
As she a lusty lady were,
His body might well be there;
But as of thought, and of memory,
His heart was in purgatory.
But yet, for strength of matrimony,
He might make none essonie1
That he ne might algates plie 2
To go to bed of company.
And when they were a-bed naked,
Without sleep he was and waked;
He turneth on that other side,
For that he would his eyen hide
Fro looking of that foul wight.
The chamber was all full of light;
The curtains were of sendall 3 thin:
This new bride which lay within,
Though it be,nought with his accord,
In arms she beclipt her lord,
And pray'd, as he was turned fro,
That he would turn again-ward tho.
For "now," she saith, "we be both one;"
But he lay still as any stone;
And ever anon she spake and pray'd,
And bade him think on that he said
When that he took her by the hond.
He heard, and understood the bond,
How he was set to his penánce:
And, as it were a man in trance,
He turneth him all suddenly,
And saw a lady lie him by
Of eighteen winters age,1
Which was the fairest of viságe
That ever in this world he sigh ;2
And as he would have take her nigh,
She put her hand, and by his leve3
Besought him that he would leave,
And sayeth, for to win or lese +
He must one of two things chese 5
Where he will have her such o'night,
Or else upon daye's light,
For he shall not have both two.
And he began to sorrow tho,
In many a wise, and cast his thought,
But for all that, yet could he nought
The Saxons always computed time by winters and
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