Chapter_79

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For that princess of price so hotly him press’d

To the limit of love, that at last him behoved

Or consent to her suit or sullen refuse.

He cared for his courtesy, lest caitiff he prove,

And for his dámnation more, to be doomèd in sin,

And be traitor untrue to the lord that him trusted.

“God shield,” quoth the wight, “that sháll not befall.”

With a lover’s laugh he put lightly aside

All the speeches so fond that fell from her lips.

Then sadly she said, “Ye are surely to blame,

If ye love not her life that ye lie here beside,

Woman in the world most wounded in heart,

Unless ye have a leman that ye love very dear,

And have plighted your troth with a pledge so true

That ye list never loose it; I believe it as now,

And I pray, on your troth, that truly ye tell me⁠—

By all saints that there are conceal not the sooth,

for guile.”

The knight said “By Saint John,”

And gently did he smile,

“In faith I have right none,

And none will have this while.”