She gan to look upon Aurelius; “Is this your will,” quoth she, “and say ye thus? Ne’er erst,”* quoth she, “I wiste what ye meant: *before But now, Aurelius, I know your intent. By thilke* God that gave me soul and life, *that Never shall I be an untrue wife In word nor work, as far as I have wit; I will be his to whom that I am knit; Take this for final answer as of me.” But after that *in play* thus saide she. *playfully, in jest* “Aurelius,” quoth she, “by high God above, Yet will I grante you to be your love (Since I you see so piteously complain); Looke, what day that endelong* Bretagne *from end to end of Ye remove all the rockes, stone by stone, That they not lette* ship nor boat to gon, *prevent I say, when ye have made this coast so clean Of rockes, that there is no stone seen, Then will I love you best of any man; Have here my troth, in all that ever I can; For well I wot that it shall ne’er betide. Let such folly out of your hearte glide. What dainty* should a man have in his life *value, pleasure For to go love another manne’s wife, That hath her body when that ever him liketh?” Aurelius full often sore siketh;* *sigheth Is there none other grace in you?” quoth he, “No, by that Lord,” quoth she, “that maked me. Woe was Aurelius when that he this heard, And with a sorrowful heart he thus answer’d. “Madame, quoth he, “this were an impossible. Then must I die of sudden death horrible.” And with that word he turned him anon.