For very love; this is withoutë doubt:
Now kiss me, wife, and let us roam about.”
This freshë May, when she these wordës heard,
Benignëly to January answér’d;
But first and forward she began to weep:
“I have,” quoth she, “a soulë for to keep
As well as ye, and also mine honoúr,
And of my wifehood thilkë tender flow’r
Which that I have assured in your hond,
When that the priest to you my body bond:
Wherefore I will answer in this mannére,
With leave of you mine owen lord so dear.
I pray to God, that never dawn the day
That I ne sterve,2957 as foul as woman may,
If e’er I do unto my kin that shame,
Or ellës I impairë so my name,
That I be false; and if I do that lack,
Do2958 strippë me, and put me in a sack,
And in the nextë river do2959 me drench:2960
I am a gentle woman, and no wench.
Why speak ye thus? but men be e’er untrue,
And women have reproof of you aye new.
Ye know none other dalliance, I believe,
But speak to us of untrust and repreve.”2961
And with that word she saw where Damian
Sat in the bush, and coughë she began;
And with her finger signë madë she,
That Damian should climb upon a tree
That charged was with fruit; and up he went:
For verily he knew all her intent,
And every signë that she couldë make,
Better than January her own make.2962
For in a letter she had told him all
Of this mattér, how that he workë shall.
And thus I leave him sitting in the perry,2963
And January and May roaming full merry.
Bright was the day, and blue the firmament;
Phoebus of gold his streamës down had sent
To gladden every flow’r with his warmnéss;
He was that time in Geminis, I guess,
But little from his declinatión
Of Cancer, Jovë’s exaltatión.
And so befell, in that bright morning-tide,
That in the garden, on the farther side,
Pluto, that is the king of Faërie,
And many a lady in his company
Following his wife, the queen Proserpina—
Which that he ravished out of Ethna,2964
While that she gather’d flowers in the mead
(In Claudian ye may the story read,
How in his grisly chariot he her fet)—2965
This king of Faërie adown him set
Upon a bank of turfës fresh and green,
And right anon thus said he to his queen.
“My wife,” quoth he, “there may no wight say nay—2966
Experience so proves it every day—
The treason which that woman doth to man.
Ten hundred thousand stories tell I can
Notáble of your untruth and brittleness.2967
O Solomon, richest of all richéss,
Full fill’d of sapience and worldly glory,
Full worthy be thy wordës of memóry
To every wight that wit and reason can.2968
Thus praised he yet the bounté2969 of man:
‘Among a thousand men yet found I one,
But of all women found I never none.’2970
Thus said this king, that knew your wickedness;
And Jesus, Filius Sirach,2971 as I guess,
He spake of you but seldom reverénce.
A wildë fire and córrupt pestilence
So fall upon your bodies yet tonight!
Ne see ye not this honourable knight?
Because, alas! that he is blind and old,
His owen man shall makë him cuckóld.
Lo, where he sits, the lechour, in the tree.
Now will I granten, of my majesty,
Unto this oldë blindë worthy knight,
That he shall have again his eyen sight,
When that his wife will do him villainy;
Then shall be knowen all her harlotry,
Both in reproof of her and other mo’.”
“Yea, Sir,” quoth Proserpine, “and will ye so?
Now by my mother Ceres’ soul I swear
That I shall give her suffisant answér,
And allë women after, for her sake;
That though they be in any guilt y-take,
With facë bold they shall themselves excuse,
And bear them down that wouldë them accuse.
For lack of answer, none of them shall dien.
All2972 had ye seen a thing with both your eyen,
Yet shall we visage it2973 so hardily,
And weep, and swear, and chidë subtilly,
That ye shall be as lewëd2974 as be geese.
What recketh me of your authorities?
I wot well that this Jew, this Solomon,
Found of us women foolës many one:
But though that he foundë no good womán,
Yet there hath found many another man
Women full good, and true, and virtuoús;
Witness on them that dwelt in Christë’s house;
With martyrdom they proved their constánce.
The Roman gestës2975 makë remembránce
Of many a very truë wife also.
But, Sirë, be not wroth, albeit so,
Though that he said he found no good womán,
I pray you take the sentence2976 of the man:
He meant thus, that in sovereign bounté2977
Is none but God, no, neither he nor she.2978
Hey, for the very God that is but one,
Why makë ye so much of Solomon?
What though he made a temple, Goddë’s house?
What though he werë rich and glorioús?
So made he eke a temple of false goddës;
How might he do a thing that more forbode2979 is?
Pardie, as fair as ye his name emplaster,2980
He was a lechour, and an idolaster,2981
And in his eld he very2982 God forsook.
And if that God had not (as saith the book)
Spared him for his father’s sake, he should
Have lost his regnë2983 rather2984 than he would.
I settë not, of2985 all the villainy
That he of women wrote, a butterfly.
I am a woman, needës must I speak,
Or ellës swell until mine heartë break.
For since he said that we be jangleresses,2986
As ever may I brookë2987 whole my tresses,
I shall not spare for no courtesy
To speak him harm, that said us villainy.”
“Dame,” quoth this Pluto, “be no longer wroth;
I give it up: but, since I swore mine oath
That I would grant to him his sight again,
My word shall stand, that warn I you certáin:
I am a king, it sits2988 me not to lie.”
“And I,” quoth she, “am queen of Faërie.
Her answer
