138. But Pandarus, that so wel coude fele
In every thing, to pleye anoon bigan,
And seyde, 'nece, see how this lord can knele!
Now, for your trouthe, seeth this gentil man!'
And with that word he for a quisshen ran,
965
And seyde, 'kneleth now, whyl that yow leste,
Ther god your hertes bringe sone at reste!'
139. Can I not seyn, for she bad him not ryse,
If sorwe it putte out of hir remembraunce,