To Rome be they come, and faste hem dighte To Colatynes hous, and doun they lighte, Tarquinius, and eek this Colatyne. The husbond knew the estres wel and fyne, 1715 And prively into the hous they goon; Nor at the gate porter was ther noon; And at the chambre-dore they abyde. This noble wyf sat by her beddes syde (40) Dischevele, for no malice she ne thoghte; 1720 And softe wolle our book seith that she wroghte To kepen her fro slouthe and ydelnesse; And bad her servants doon hir businesse, And axeth hem, 'what tydings heren ye? How seith men of the sege, how shal hit be? 1725 God wolde the walles weren falle adoun; Myn husbond is so longe out of this toun, For which the dreed doth me so sore smerte, Right as a swerd hit stingeth to myn herte (50) Whan I think on the sege or of that place; 1730 God save my lord, I preye him for his grace:'-- And ther-with-al ful tenderly she weep, And of her werk she took no more keep, But mekely she leet her eyen falle; And thilke semblant sat her wel with-alle. 1735 And eek her teres, ful of honestee, Embelisshed her wyfly chastitee; Her countenaunce is to her herte digne, For they acordeden in dede and signe. (60) And with that word her husbond Colatyn, 1740 Or she of him was war, com sterting in, And seide, 'dreed thee noght, for I am here!' And she anoon up roos, with blisful chere, And kiste him, as of wyves is the wone. Tarquinius, this proude kinges sone, 1745 Conceived hath her beautee and her chere, Her yelow heer, her shap, and her manere, Her hew, her wordes that she hath compleyned, And by no crafte her beautee nas nat feyned; (70) And caughte to this lady swich desyr, 1750 That in his herte brende as any fyr So woodly, that his wit was al forgeten. For wel, thoghte he, she sholde nat be geten And ay the more that he was in dispair, The more he coveteth and thoghte her fair. 1755 His blinde lust was al his covetinge. A-morwe, whan the brid began to singe, Unto the sege he comth ful privily, And by himself he walketh sobrely, (80) Thimage of her recording alwey newe; 1760 'Thus lay her heer, and thus fresh was her hewe; Thus sat, thus spak, thus span; this was her chere, Thus fair she was, and this was her manere.' Al this conceit his herte hath now y-take. And, as the see, with tempest al to-shake, 1765 That, after whan the storm is al ago, Yet wol the water quappe a day or two, Right so, thogh that her forme wer absent,