That she ne hath foot on which she may sustene ;

But forth languisshing ever in this estate, Of which Arcite hath nother routhe ne tene;

His herte was elles-where, newe and grene, 180

That on hir wo ne deyneth him not to thinke,

Him rekketh never wher she flete or sinke.

His newe lady holdeth him so narowe Up by the brydel, at the staves ende, That every word, he dradde hit as an arowe ; 185 Hir daunger made him bothe bowe and bende,

And as hir liste, made him turne or wende;

For she ne graunted him in hir livinge No grace, why that he hath lust to singe; But drof him forth, unnethe liste hir knowe

190

Nay, certes! ferther wol I never +founde
Non other help, my sores for to sounde.
My destinee hath shapen it ful yore;
I wil non other medecyne ne lore;
I wil ben ay ther I was ones bounde, 245
That I have seid, be seid for ever-more!
4.

Alas! wher is become your gentilesse! Your wordes fulle of plesaunce and humblesse ?

Your observaunces in so low manere, And your awayting and your besinesse 250 Upon me, that ye calden your maistresse,

Your sovereyn lady in this worlde here? Alas! and is ther nother word ne chere Ye vouchesauf upon myn hevinesse ?

Alas! your love, I bye hit al to dere. 255 5.

More then my-self, an hundred thousand sythe,

And called him my hertes lyf, my knight, And was al his, as fer as hit was right; And whan that he was glad, than was I blythe, 225

And his disese was my deeth as swythe; And he ayein his trouthe me had plight For ever-more, his lady me to kythe.

2.

325

I fare as doth the song of Chaunte-pleure.
For now I pleyne, and now I pleye, 321
I am so mased that I deye,
Arcite hath born awey the keye
Of al my worlde, and my good aventure!
For in this worlde nis creature
Wakinge, in more discomfiture
Then I, ne more sorow endure;
And if I slepe a furlong wey or tweye,
Than thinketh me, that your figure
Before me stant, clad in asure,
To profren eft a newe assure
For to be trewe, and mercy me to preye.

The longe night

drye, And on the day And of al this recche.

6.

330

this wonder sight I

for this afray I dye, 334

right noght, y-wis, ye