Were it by destiny, or aventure,* * chance Were it by influence, or by nature, Or constellation, that in such estate The heaven stood at that time fortunate As for to put a bill of Venus’ works (For alle thing hath time, as say these clerks), To any woman for to get her love, I cannot say; but greate God above, That knoweth that none act is causeless, *He deem* of all, for I will hold my peace. *let him judge* But sooth is this, how that this freshe May Hath taken such impression that day Of pity on this sicke Damian, That from her hearte she not drive can The remembrance for *to do him ease.* *to satisfy “Certain,” thought she, “whom that this thing displease his desire* I recke not, for here I him assure, To love him best of any creature, Though he no more haddee than his shirt.” Lo, pity runneth soon in gentle heart. Here may ye see, how excellent franchise* *generosity In women is when they them *narrow advise.* *closely consider* Some tyrant is, — as there be many a one, — That hath a heart as hard as any stone, Which would have let him sterven* in the place *die Well rather than have granted him her grace; And then rejoicen in her cruel pride. And reckon not to be a homicide. This gentle May, full filled of pity, Right of her hand a letter maked she, In which she granted him her very grace; There lacked nought, but only day and place, Where that she might unto his lust suffice: For it shall be right as he will devise. And when she saw her time upon a day To visit this Damian went this May, And subtilly this letter down she thrust Under his pillow, read it if him lust.* *pleased She took him by the hand, and hard him twist So secretly, that no wight of it wist, And bade him be all whole; and forth she went To January, when he for her sent. Up rose Damian the nexte morrow, All passed was his sickness and his sorrow. He combed him, he proined <20> him and picked, He did all that unto his lady liked; And eke to January he went as low As ever did a dogge for the bow.<21> He is so pleasant unto every man (For craft is all, whoso that do it can), Every wight is fain to speak him good; And fully in his lady’s grace he stood. Thus leave I Damian about his need, And in my tale forth I will proceed.