THE KNIGHTES TALE. 143
That sche, for whom they han this jolitee,
Can hem therfore as moche thanke as me.
Sche woot no more of al this hoote fare,
By God, than wot a cockow or an hare.
But al moot ben assayed, hoot and cold ;
A man moot ben a fool or yong or old;
I woot it by myself ful j'ore agon :
For in my tyme a servant was I on.
And therefore, syn I knowe of loves peyne,
And wot how sore it can a man distreyne,
As he that hath ben caught ofte in his laas,
I you foryeve al holly this trespaas,
At requeste of the queen that kneleth heere,
And eek of Emelye, my suster deere.
And ye schul bothe anon unto me swere,
That neveremo ye schul my corowne dere,
Ne make werre upon me night ne day,
But ben my freendes in al tha*t ye may.
I yow foryeve this trespas every del.'
And they him swore his axyng fayre and wel,
And him of lordschipe and of mercy prayde,
And he hem graunteth grace, and thus he
sayde :
* To speke of real lynage and richesse, Though that sche were a queen, or a pryncesse, Ech of JKOW bothe is worthy douteles To wedden when tyme is, but natheles I speke as for my suster Emelye, For whom ye han this stryf and jelousye, Ye wite jyoureself sche may not wedde two At oonehs, though ye fighten evere mo : That oon of jyow, al be him loth or leef, He mot go pypen in an ivy leef; This is to sayn, sche may nought now han bothe, Al bej* nevere so jelous, ne so wrothe. And for-thy I you putte in this degre, That ech of you schal have his destyne',