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T. 10185-10221.]
E. THE MARCHANTES TALE.
457
'Dame,' quod this Pluto, 'be no lenger wrooth;
I yeve it up; but sith I swoor myn ooth
That I wolde graunten him his sighte ageyn,
My word shal stonde, I warne yow, certeyn. (1070)
I am a king, it sit me noght to lye.' 2315
'And I,' quod she, 'a queene of fayërye.
Hir answere shal she have, I undertake;
Lat us na-more wordes heer-of make.
For sothe, I wol no lenger yow contrarie.'
Now lat us turne agayn to Ianuarie, 2320
That in the gardin with his faire May
Singeth, ful merier than the papeiay,
'Yow love I best, and shal, and other noon.'
So longe aboute the aleyes is he goon, (1080)
Til he was come agaynes thilke pyrie, 2325
Wher-as this Damian sitteth fill myrie
An heigh, among the fresshe leves grene.
This fresshe May, that is so bright and shene,
Gan for to syke, and seyde, 'allas, my syde!
Now sir,' quod she, 'for aught that may bityde, 2330
I moste han of the peres that I see,
Or I mot dye, so sore longeth me
To eten of the smale peres grene.
Help, for hir love that is of hevene quene! (1090)
I telle yow wel, a womman in my plyt 2335
May han to fruit so greet an appetyt,
That she may dyen, but she of it have.'
'Allas!' quod he, 'that I ne had heer a knave
That coude climbe; allas! allas!' quod he,
'That I am blind.' 'Ye, sir, no fors,' quod she: 2340
'But wolde ye vouche-sauf, for goddes sake,
The pyrie inwith your armes for to take,
(For wel I woot that ye mistruste me)
Thanne sholde I climbe wel y-nogh,' quod she, (1100)
'So I my foot mighte sette upon your bak.' 2345
'Certes,' quod he, 'ther-on shal be no lak,
Mighte I yow helpen with myn herte blood.'
I yeve it up; but sith I swoor myn ooth
That I wolde graunten him his sighte ageyn,
My word shal stonde, I warne yow, certeyn. (1070)
I am a king, it sit me noght to lye.' 2315
'And I,' quod she, 'a queene of fayërye.
Hir answere shal she have, I undertake;
Lat us na-more wordes heer-of make.
For sothe, I wol no lenger yow contrarie.'
Now lat us turne agayn to Ianuarie, 2320
That in the gardin with his faire May
Singeth, ful merier than the papeiay,
'Yow love I best, and shal, and other noon.'
So longe aboute the aleyes is he goon, (1080)
Til he was come agaynes thilke pyrie, 2325
Wher-as this Damian sitteth fill myrie
An heigh, among the fresshe leves grene.
This fresshe May, that is so bright and shene,
Gan for to syke, and seyde, 'allas, my syde!
Now sir,' quod she, 'for aught that may bityde, 2330
I moste han of the peres that I see,
Or I mot dye, so sore longeth me
To eten of the smale peres grene.
Help, for hir love that is of hevene quene! (1090)
I telle yow wel, a womman in my plyt 2335
May han to fruit so greet an appetyt,
That she may dyen, but she of it have.'
'Allas!' quod he, 'that I ne had heer a knave
That coude climbe; allas! allas!' quod he,
'That I am blind.' 'Ye, sir, no fors,' quod she: 2340
'But wolde ye vouche-sauf, for goddes sake,
The pyrie inwith your armes for to take,
(For wel I woot that ye mistruste me)
Thanne sholde I climbe wel y-nogh,' quod she, (1100)
'So I my foot mighte sette upon your bak.' 2345
'Certes,' quod he, 'ther-on shal be no lak,
Mighte I yow helpen with myn herte blood.'
