Is ther aught elles, Dorigen, but this? else Nay, nay, quod sche, God me so rede and wis reads, knows This is to moche, and it were Goddes wille! if Ye, wyf, quod he, let slepe that may be stille,[173] It may be wel, paraunter, yet to-day. peradventure Ye schal your trouthe holden, by my fay, faith For God so wisly have mercy on me, wisely I hadde wel lever i-stekid for to be, rather, slain For verray love which that I to you have, But if ye scholde your trouthe kepe and save, unless Trouthe is the hiest thing that man may kepe. And with that word he brast anon to wepe. burst “Is there aught further, Dorigene, than this?” “Nay, nay,” cried she, “God help me, for it is Too much already--were it but His will!” “Yea, wife,” he answered, “what has been is still, But yet, perchance, it may be well to-day. That promise you shall hold to, by my fay, For as I hope for mercy from on high, I would more willingly consent to die, Yea for the love’s sake that I bear to you, Than you should break the honour of a vow Faith is the highest thing that can be kept.” And with that word he broke away and wept. Poor Arviragus, this brave and just knight, bade Dorigene keep her word at any cost to herself or him, but he could not keep up his cheerful tone. He was too deeply grieved and hurt, and even wept with her for sorrow. Then he commanded a squire and a maid to attend Dorigene for a part of the way to the garden, where Aurelius would fetch her. Now, Aurelius happened to meet her on her way to the garden, in one of the busiest streets of the town. He saluted her joyfully, and asked her whither she was going. But Dorigene was distracted with grief. And sche answered, half as sche were mad, Unto the gardyn, as myn housbond bad, My trouthe for to holde, allas! allas! And she made answer half as she were mad, “Unto the garden, as my husband bade, To keep my troth to you, alas! alas!” When Aurelius heard that, he was deeply touched that Arviragus should have sent her, weeping as she was, rather than she should break her promise. See how proud and how strong the sense of honour was in those days! He felt that after such a sacrifice he would rather forego everything than insist upon his right to take away Dorigene, which, he felt, would be ‘_churlish wretchedness against fraunchise of all gentillesse_’[174]--a deed against courtesy and honour. And he said, “Madam, say to your lord, Arviragus, that since I see he would rather suffer anything than that you should fail in truth, and since I see that you care far more for Arviragus than ever you will for me--even if you went away with me, you would never love me as much as Arviragus--I would rather be unhappy all my life than make you so. I release you from your promise for ever.”