And some with arrows bleed of bitter wounds.
He saw, when voided3328 were the wildë deer,
These falconers upon a fair rivére,
That with their hawkës have the heron slain.
Then saw he knightës jousting in a plain.
And after this he did him such pleasánce,
That he him shew’d his lady on a dance,
In which himselfë danced, as him thought.
And when this master, that this magic wrought,
Saw it was time, he clapp’d his handës two,
And farewell, all the revel is y-go.3329
And yet remov’d they never out of the house,
While they saw all the sightës marvelloús;
But in his study, where his bookës be,
They sattë still, and no wight but they three.
To him this master called his squiér,
And said him thus, “May we go to suppér?
Almost an hour it is, I undertake,
Since I you bade our supper for to make,
When that these worthy men wentë with me
Into my study, where my bookës be.”
“Sir,” quoth this squiër, “when it liketh you.
It is all ready, though ye will right now.”
“Go we then sup,” quoth he, “as for the best;
These amorous folk some time must have rest.”
At after supper fell they in treatý
What summë should this master’s guerdon be,
To remove all the rockës of Bretágne,
And eke from Gironde3330 to the mouth of Seine.
He made it strange,3331 and swore, so God him save,
Less than a thousand pound he would not have,
Nor gladly for that sum he would not gon.3332
Aurelius with blissful heart anon
Answered thus; “Fie on a thousand pound!
This widë world, which that men say is round,
I would it give, if I were lord of it.
This bargain is full-driv’n, for we be knit;3333
Ye shall be payed truly by my troth.
But lookë, for no negligence or sloth,
Ye tarry us here no longer than to-morrow.”
“Nay,” quoth the clerk, “have here my faith to borrow.”3334
To bed is gone Aurelius when him lest,
And well-nigh all that night he had his rest,
What for his labour, and his hope of bliss,
His woeful heart of penance had a liss.3335
Upon the morrow, when that it was day,
Unto Bretágne they took the rightë way,
Aurelius and this magicián beside,
And be descended where they would abide:
And this was, as the bookës me remember,
The coldë frosty season of December.
Phoebus wax’d old, and huëd like latoun,3336
That in his hotë declinatioún
Shone as the burned gold, with streamës3337 bright;
But now in Capricorn adown he light,
Where as he shone full pale, I dare well sayn.
The bitter frostës, with the sleet and rain,
Destroyed have the green in every yard.3338
Janus sits by the fire with double beard,
And drinketh of his bugle horn the wine:
Before him stands the brawn of tusked swine,
And “nowel”3339 crieth every lusty man.
Aurelius, in all that ev’r he can,
Did to his master cheer and reverence,
And prayed him to do his diligence
To bringë him out of his painë’s smart,
Or with a sword that he would slit his heart.
This subtle clerk such ruth3340 had on this man,
That night and day he sped him, that he can,
To wait a time of his conclusión;
This is to say, to make illusión,
By such an áppearánce of jugglery
(I know no termës of astrology),
That she and every wight should ween and say,
That of Bretágne the rockës were away,
Or else they werë sunken under ground.
So at the last he hath a timë found
To make his japës3341 and his wretchedness
Of such a superstitious cursedness.3342
His tables Toletanës3343 forth he brought,
Full well corrected, that there lacked nought,
Neither his collect, nor his expanse years,
Neither his rootës, nor his other gears,
As be his centres, and his arguments,
And his proportional conveniénts
For his equatións in everything.
And by his eightë spheres in his workíng,
He knew full well how far Alnath3344 was shove
From the head of that fix’d Aries above,
That in the ninthë sphere consider’d is.
Full subtilly he calcul’d all this.
When he had found his firstë mansión,
He knew the remnant by proportión;
And knew the rising of his moonë well,
And in whose face, and term, and every deal;
And knew full well the moonë’s mansión
Accordant to his operatión;
And knew also his other observánces,
For such illusións and such meschances,3345
As heathen folk used in thilkë days.
For which no longer made he delays;
But through his magic, for a day or tway,3346
It seemed all the rockës were away.
Aurelius, which yet despaired is
Whe’er3347 he shall have his love, or fare amiss,
Awaited night and day on this mirácle:
And when he knew that there was none obstácle,
That voided3348 were these rockës every one,
Down at his master’s feet he fell anon,
And said; “I, woeful wretch’d Aurelius,
Thank you, my Lord, and lady mine Venús,
That me have holpen from my carës cold.”
And to the temple his way forth hath he hold’,
Where as he knew he should his lady see.
And when he saw his time, anon right he
With dreadful3349 heart and with full humble cheer3350
Saluteth hath his sovereign lady dear.
“My rightful Lady,” quoth this woeful man,
“Whom I most dread, and love as I best can,
And lothest were of all this world displease,
Were ’t not that I for you have such disease,3351
That I must die here at your foot anon,
Nought would I tell how me is woebegone.
But certes either must I die or plain;3352
Ye slay me guiltëless for very pain.
But of my death though that ye have no ruth,
Advisë you, ere that ye break your truth:
Repentë you, for thilkë God above,
Ere ye me slay because that I you love.
For, Madame, well ye wot what ye have hight;3353
Not that I challenge anything of right
Of you, my sovereign lady, but of grace:
But in a garden yond’, in such a place,
Ye wot right well what ye behightë me,
And in mine hand your trothë plighted ye,
To love me best; God wot ye saidë so,
Albeit that I unworthy am thereto;
Madame, I speak it for
