Bot on the Dees to caste chaunce Or axe of love som demande, Or elles that hir list comaunde To rede and here of Troilus, Riht as sche wole or so or thus, I am al redi to consente. And if so is that I mai hente Somtime among a good leisir, So as I dar of mi desir 2800 I telle a part; bot whanne I preie, Anon sche bidt me go mi weie And seith it is ferr in the nyht; And I swere it is even liht. Bot as it falleth ate laste, Ther mai no worldes joie laste, So mot I nedes fro hire wende And of my wachche make an ende: And if sche thanne hiede toke, Hou pitousliche on hire I loke, 2810 Whan that I schal my leve take, Hire oghte of mercy forto slake Hire daunger, which seith evere nay. Bot he seith often, “Have good day,” That loth is forto take his leve: Therfore, while I mai beleve, I tarie forth the nyht along, For it is noght on me along To slep that I so sone go, Til that I mot algate so; 2820 And thanne I bidde godd hire se, And so doun knelende on mi kne I take leve, and if I schal, I kisse hire, and go forth withal. And otherwhile, if that I dore, Er I come fulli to the Dore, I torne ayein and feigne a thing, As thogh I hadde lost a Ring Or somwhat elles, for I wolde Kisse hire eftsones, if I scholde, 2830 Bot selden is that I so spede. And whanne I se that I mot nede Departen, I departe, and thanne With al myn herte I curse and banne That evere slep was mad for yhe; For, as me thenkth, I mihte dryhe Withoute slep to waken evere, So that I scholde noght dissevere Fro hire, in whom is al my liht: And thanne I curse also the nyht 2840 With al the will of mi corage, And seie, “Awey, thou blake ymage, Which of thi derke cloudy face Makst al the worldes lyht deface, And causest unto slep a weie, Be which I mot nou gon aweie Out of mi ladi compaignie. O slepi nyht, I thee defie, And wolde that thou leye in presse With Proserpine the goddesse 2850 And with Pluto the helle king: For til I se the daies spring, I sette slep noght at a risshe.” And with that word I sike and wisshe, And seie, “Ha, whi ne were it day? For yit mi ladi thanne I may Beholde, thogh I do nomore.” And efte I thenke forthermore, To som man hou the niht doth ese, Whan he hath thing that mai him plese 2860 The longe nyhtes be his side, Where as I faile and go beside. Bot slep, I not wherof it serveth, Of which noman his thonk deserveth To gete him love in eny place, Bot is an hindrere of his grace And makth him ded as for a throwe, Riht as a Stok were overthrowe. And so, mi fader, in this wise The slepi nyhtes I despise, 2870 And evere amiddes of mi tale I thenke upon the nyhtingale, Which slepeth noght be weie of kinde For love, in bokes as I finde. Thus ate laste I go to bedde, And yit min herte lith to wedde With hire, wher as I cam fro; Thogh I departe, he wol noght so, Ther is no lock mai schette him oute, Him nedeth noght to gon aboute, 2880 That perce mai the harde wall; Thus is he with hire overall, That be hire lief, or be hire loth,