And as a man hag-ridden beats and grins And bends his body sidelong in his bed, So wagged he with his body and knave's head, Gaping at her, and blowing with his breath. And in good time he gat an evil death Out of his lewdness with his cursèd wives: His bones were hewn asunder as with knives For his misliving, certes it is said. But all the evil wrought upon this maid, It were full hard for one to handle it. For her soft blood was shed upon her feet, And all her body's colour bruised and faint. But she, as one abiding God's great saint, Spake not nor wept for all this travail hard. Wherefore the king commanded afterward To slay her presently in all men's sight. And it was now an hour upon the night And winter-time, and a few stars began. The weather was yet feeble and all wan For beating of a weighty wind and snow. And she came walking in soft wise and slow, And many men with faces piteous. Then came this heavy cursing Gabalus, That swore full hard into his drunken beard; And faintly after without any word Came Theophile some paces off the king. And in the middle of this wayfaring Full tenderly beholding her he said: There is no word of comfort with men dead Nor any face and colour of things sweet; But always with lean cheeks and lifted feet These dead men lie all aching to the blood With bitter cold, their brows withouten hood Beating for chill, their bodies swathed full thin: Alas, what hire shall any have herein To give his life and get such bitterness? Also the soul going forth bodiless Is hurt with naked cold, and no man saith If there be house or covering for death To hide the soul that is discomforted. Then she beholding him a little said: Alas, fair lord, ye have no wit of this; For on one side death is full poor of bliss And as ye say full sharp of bone and lean: But on the other side is good and green And hath soft flower of tender-coloured hair Grown on his head, and a red mouth as fair As may be kissed with lips; thereto his face Is as God's face, and in a perfect place Full of all sun and colour of straight boughs And waterheads about a painted house That hath a mile of flowers either way Outward from it, and blossom-grass of May Thickening on many a side for length of heat, Hath God set death upon a noble seat Covered with green and flowered in the fold, In likeness of a great king grown full old And gentle with new temperance of blood; And on his brows a purfled purple hood, They may not carry any golden thing; And plays some tune with subtle fingering On a small cithern, full of tears and sleep And heavy pleasure that is quick to weep And sorrow with the honey in her mouth; And for this might of music that he doth Are all souls drawn toward him with great love And weep for sweetness of the noise thereof And bow to him with worship of their knees; And all the field is thick with companies