Now, Aurelius happened to meet her on her way to the garden, in one of the busiest streets of the town. He saluted her joyfully, and asked her whither she was going. But Dorigene was distracted with grief.
And sche answered, half as sche were mad,
Unto the gardyn, as myn housbond bad,
My trouthe for to holde, allas! allas!
And she made answer half as she were mad,
“Unto the garden, as my husband bade,
To keep my troth to you, alas! alas!”
When Aurelius heard that, he was deeply touched that Arviragus should have sent her, weeping as she was, rather than she should break her promise. See how proud and how strong the sense of honour was in those days! He felt that after such a sacrifice he would rather forego everything than insist upon his right to take away Dorigene, which, he felt, would be ‘churlish wretchedness against fraunchise of all gentillesse’[174]—a deed against courtesy and honour. And he said, “Madam, say to your lord, Arviragus, that since I see he would rather suffer anything than that you should fail in truth, and since I see that you care far more for Arviragus than ever you will for me—even if you went away with me, you would never love me as much as Arviragus—I would rather be unhappy all my life than make you so. I release you from your promise for ever.”
Thus can a squyer doon a gentil dede,do
As wel as can a knyghte, withouten drede.
Thus can a squire do a noble deed
As nobly as a knight can, without dread.
Dorigene fell down on her knees and thanked him, and went back to her husband happy, and they lived in bliss ever after.
Aurelius, however, though his conscience was clear, bethought him of all his trouble and the money he had spent to no purpose. He had willingly promised all his fortune when he thought he could win beautiful Dorigene; but now he said, “I must sell my heritage, but I cannot live here a beggar to shame my kindred; unless the magician would be so kind as to let me pay the thousand pounds little by little. I will not break my promise to him. He shall have the money though I have got nothing by it.”
With herte soor he goth unto his cofre,sore
And broughte gold unto this philosophre,philosopher
The value of fyf hundred pound, I gesse,
And him bysecheth of his gentillesce,beseecheth
To graunte him dayes of the remenaunt;remnant
And sayde, Maister, I dar wel make avauntboast
I fayled never of my trouthe as yit,
For sikerly my dettes schall be quytsurely
Towardes yow, how so that ever I fare
To goon and begge in my kurtil bare,beg, tunic
But wolde ye vouchesauf upon seurté,vouchsafe, surety
Tuo yere or thre for to respite me,
Than were I wel, for elles most I selle
Myn heritage, ther is nomore to telle.
With mournful heart he went unto his coffer
And took such gold as he was free to offer,
The value of five hundred pounds, I guess;
Beseeching him, of his kindheartedness,
To grant him for the rest some time to pay,
And said, “Master, I do not fear to say
I never failed to keep my word as yet;
Truly my debt to you I shall acquit,
Whatever comes—though I must needs at best
Go begging in my shirt to find the rest.
But would ye grant, on good security,
To give me credit for two years, or three,
Then all were well, for else I must needs sell
My heritage—there is no more to tell.”
The magician soberly answered, “Did I not keep my covenant with you?”
“Yes, well and truly,” said Aurelius.
“And did you not take the lady away with you?”