And when that Partelote thus heard him roar, She was aghast, and said, "O hearte dear, What aileth you to groan in this mannere? Ye be a very sleeper, fie, for shame!" And he answered and saide thus: "Madame, I pray you that ye take it not agrief[288]; By God, me met[289] I was in such mischief[290] Right now, that yet mine heart is sore affright. Now God," quoth he, "my sweven[291] read[292] aright, And keep my body out of foul prison. Me met how that I roamed up and down Within our yard, where-as I saw a beast Was like an hound, and would have made arrest Upon my body, and have had me dead. His colour was betwixe yellow and red; And tipped was his tail, and both his ears With black, unlike the remnant of his hairs. His snoute small, with glowing eyen twey; Yet of his look for fear almost I dey[293]: This caused me my groaning doubteless." "Avoy!" quoth she, "fie on you hearteless! Alas!" quoth she, "for by that God above Now have ye lost mine heart and all my love; I cannot love a coward, by my faith. For certes, what so any woman saith, We all desiren, if it mighte be, To have husbandes, hardy, wise, and free, And secre,[294] and no niggard ne no fool, Ne him that is aghast of every tool, Ne none avantour[295] by that God above. How durst ye say for shame unto your love, That anything might maken you afeard? Have ye no mannes heart, and have a beard? Alas! and can ye be aghast of swevenes[296]? Nothing but vanity, God wot, in sweven is, Swevens engender of repletions, And oft of fume, and of complexions,[297] When humours be too abundant in a wight. Certes this dream, which ye have met[298] to-night, Cometh of the greate superfluity Of youre rede colera,[299] pardie, Which causeth folk to dreamen in hir dreams Of arrows, and of fire with rede leames,[300] Of greate beastes, that they will hem bite, Of contek[301] and of whelpes great and lite[302]; Right as the humour of melancholy Causeth full many a man in sleep to cry, For fear of blacke beares or bulles blake, Or elles blacke devils will hem take. Of other humours could I tell also, That worken many a man in sleep full woe: But I will pass as lightly[303] as I can. Lo Cato, which that was so wise a man, Said he not thus? 'Ne do no force[304] of dreams.'" "Now, Sir," quoth she, "when ye fly from the beams, For Godes love, as take some laxative: Up[305] peril of my soul, and of my live, I counsel you the best, I will not lie, That both of choler, and of melancholy Ye purge you; and for ye shall not tarry, Though in this town is none apothecary, I shall myself to herbes teachen you, That shall be for your heal[306] and for your prow[307]; And in our yard tho[308] herbes shall I find, The which have of hir property by kind[309] To purgen you beneath, and eke above. Forget not this for Godes owen love; Ye be full choleric of complexion;