XXVI.
The knight is sorely pressed.
For þat prynce of pris de-presed hym so þikke.
Nurned hym so neȝe þe þred, þat nede hym bi-houed,
Oþer lach þer hir luf, oþer lodly re-fuse;
He cared for his cortaysye, lest craþayn he were,
& more for his meschef, ȝif he schulde make synne,
& be traytor to þat tolke, þat þat telde aȝt.
"God schylde," quod þe schalk, "þat schal not be-falle!"
With luf-laȝyng a lyt, he layd hym by-syde
Alle þe specheȝ of specialté þat sprange of her mouthe.
Quod þat burde to þe burne, "blame ȝe disserue,
Ȝif ȝe luf not þat lyf þat ȝe lye nexte,
Bifore alle þe wyȝeȝ in þe worlde, wounded in hert,
Bot if ȝe haf a lemman, a leuer, þat yow lykeȝ better,
& folden fayth to þat fre, festned so harde,
Þat yow lausen ne lyst, & þat I leue nouþe;
And þat ȝe telle me þat, now trwly I pray yow,
For alle þe lufeȝ vpon lyue, layne not þe soþe,
for gile."
Þe knyȝt sayde, "be sayn Ion,"
& smeþely con he smyle,
"In fayth I welde riȝt non,
Ne non wil welde þe quile."