Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 2.pdf/216

188

And never more will see or hear.

Within the ditch, a fitting bier,

With gaping throat he’s thrown.

Unless

Some sorcerer or sorceress

Revive him he’ll missay no more,

For nothing short of devil’s lore,

Or miracles, through venoms dire,

Again can light in him the fire

Of life: his spite and rage are spent.

In that case gladly I’ll consent

To do the thing for which you pray.

But let the swain make no delay,

And if I grant to him access

He must behave with gentleness.

Let him obey my summons then,

The moment I inform him when

The time is come. But nothing he

Must do that would unseemly be

If life and goods he values, nor

Be seen in passing through the door.

Let him command. I’ll do his will.

All that you say will he fulfil,

They cried.

Thanks had she from each one,

And thus their work was so far done.