And ryvelin as an empty skin
Hanging down unto the chin.
Her lippés shrunken been for age;
There was no grace in her visage.
Her front was narrow, her locks hoar,
She looketh forth as doth a Moor.
Her neck is short, her shoulders courb,2
That might a mannis lust distourb.
Her body, great, and nothing small:
And, shortly to describe her all,
She hath no lyth without a lack,
But like unto a wool-sack.
She proffereth her unto this knight,
And bade him, as he hath behight
So as she hath been his warrant.
That he her held covenant,
And by the bridle she him sieseth,
But God wot how that she him pleaseth! Of such wordés as she speaketh
Him thinketh well-nigh his heart breaketh,
For sorrow that he may not flee
But if he would untrue be.
• Shrivelled.
• Crooked.
3 Limb.
▲ Promised,
Look how a sick man for his heal
Taketh baldemoyn with the canele,
And with the myrrh taketh the sugre,4
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 coyse
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,
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,
incommoder. Old Fr.
3 Took; nim. Sax.
Probably incumbrance, from coisser,
See La Combe's Dict.
"Nim a purse," Shakspeare.
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,
And she ne would not be shore2
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. e. 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 plie2
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;
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