But hear you now a wondrous thing, I pray;
As long as in that swooning fit I lay,
Methought I wist right well what these birds meant,
And had good knowing both of their intent,
And of their speech, and all that they would say.
23.
The Nightingale thus in my hearing spake:
“Good Cuckoo, seek some other bush or brake
And, prithee, let us that can sing dwell here;
For every wight eschews thy song to hear,
Such uncouth singing verily dost thou make.”
24.
“What!” quoth she then, “what is’t that ails thee now?
It seems to me I sing as well as thou;
For mine’s a song that is both true and plain,—
Although I cannot quaver so in vain
As thou dost in thy throat, I wot not how.
25.
“All men may understanding have of me,
But, Nightingale, so may they not of thee;
For thou hast many a foolish and quaint cry:—
Thou say’st Osee, Osee; then how may I
Have knowledge, I thee pray, what this may be?”
26.
“Ah, fool!” quoth she, “wist thou not what it is?
Oft as I say Osee, Osee, I wis,
Then mean I, that I should be wondrous fain
That shamefully they one and all were slain,
Whoever against Love mean aught amiss.
27.