hand softely upon my brest, and seide: 'Here nis no peril,' quod
she; 'he is fallen into a [litargie], whiche that is a comune sykenes
15
to hertes that ben deceived. He hath a litel foryeten him-self,
but certes he shal lightly remembren him-self, yif so be that he
hath knowen me or now; and that he may so don, I wil wypen a
litel his eyen, that ben derked by the cloude of mortal thinges.'
Thise wordes seide she, and with the lappe of hir garment, [y-plyted]
20
in a frounce, she dryede myn eyen, that weren fulle of the wawes