'Ah! worthy creature,' quod I, 'and by juste cause the name of goddesse dignely ye mowe bere! In thee lyth the grace thorough whiche any creature in this worlde hath any goodnesse. Trewly, al maner of blisse and preciousnesse in vertue out of 150 thee springen and wellen, as brokes and rivers proceden from their springes. And lyke as al waters by kynde drawen to the see, so al kyndely thinges thresten, by ful appetyte of desyre, to drawe after thy steppes, and to thy presence aproche as to their kyndely perfeccion. How dare than beestes in this worlde aught forfete 155 ayenst thy devyne purveyaunce? Also, lady, ye knowen al the privy thoughtes; in hertes no counsayl may ben hid from your knowing. Wherfore I wot wel, lady, that ye knowe your-selfe that I in my conscience am and have ben willinge to your service, al coude I never do as I shulde; yet, forsothe, fayned I never to 160 love otherwyse than was in myn herte; and if I coude have made chere to one and y-thought another, as many other doon alday afore myn eyen, I trowe it wolde not me have vayled.' 'Certes,' quod she, 'haddest thou so don, I wolde not now have thee here visited.' 165 'Ye wete wel, lady, eke,' quod I, 'that I have not played raket, "nettil in, docke out," and with the wethercocke waved; and trewly, there ye me sette, by acorde of my conscience I wolde not flye, til ye and reson, by apert strength, maden myn herte to tourne.' 170