Right in the dawening awaketh she, And gropeth in the bed, and found right naught. "Alas," quoth she, "that ever I was wrought! I am betrayed!" and her hair she rent, And to the strande barefoot fast she went, And criede: "Theseus, mine hearte sweet! Where be ye, that I may not with you meet? And mighte thus by beastes been y-slain!" The hollow rockes answered her again. No man she sawe; and yet shone the moon, And high upon a rock she wente soon, And saw his barge sailing in the sea. Cold waxed her heart, and right thus said she: "Meeker than ye I find the beastes wild!" (Hath he not sin that he her thus beguiled?) She cried, "O turn again for ruth and sin, Thy barge hath not all thy meinie in." Her kerchief on a pole sticked she, Askance, that he should it well y-see, And should remember that she was behind, And turn again, and on the strand her find. But all for naught; his way he is y-gone, And down she fell aswoone on a stone; And up she rose, and kissed, in all her care, The steppes of his feet remaining there; And then unto her bed she speaketh so: "Thou bed," quoth she, "that hast received two, Thou shalt answer for two, and not for one; Where is the greater part away y-gone? Alas, what shall I wretched wight become? For though so be no help shall hither come, Home to my country dare I not for dread, I can myselfe in this case not rede." Why should I tell more of her complaining? It is so long it were a heavy thing. In her Epistle Naso telleth all. But shortly to the ende tell I shall. The goddes have her holpen for pity, And in the sign of Taurus men may see The stones of her crown all shining clear. I will no further speak of this matter. But thus these false lovers can beguile Their true love; the devil quite him his while! Manifestly, then, in this period of his life--if a chronology which is in a great measure cojectural may be accepted--Chancer had been a busy worker, and his pen had covered many a page with the results of his rapid productivity. Perhaps, his "Words unto his own Scrivener," which we may fairly date about this time, were rather too hard on "Adam." Authors ARE often hard on persons who have to read their handiwork professionally; but in the interest of posterity poets may be permitted an execration or two against whosoever changes their words as well as against whosoever moves their bones:-- Adam Scrivener, if ever it thee befall "Boece" or "Troilus" to write anew, Under thy long locks may'st thou have the scall, If thou my writing copy not more true! So oft a day I must thy work renew, It to correct and eke to rub and scrape; And all is through thy negligence and rape.