Ordeinen that it was excused, And hid so crafteliche aboute,[391] That noman myhte sen hem oute. Bot when sche was fulliche arraied And hire atyr was al assaied, Tho was sche foulere on to se: Bot yit it may non other be, 1760 Thei were wedded in the nyht; So wo begon was nevere knyht As he was thanne of mariage. And sche began to pleie and rage, As who seith, I am wel ynowh; Bot he therof nothing ne lowh, For sche tok thanne chiere on honde And clepeth him hire housebonde,[392] And seith, ‘My lord, go we to bedde, For I to that entente wedde,[393] 1770 That thou schalt be my worldes blisse:’ And profreth him with that to kisse, As sche a lusti Lady were. His body myhte wel be there, Bot as of thoght and of memoire His herte was in purgatoire. [Sidenote: =P. i. 102=] Bot yit for strengthe of matrimoine He myhte make non essoine, That he ne mot algates plie To gon to bedde of compaignie: 1780 And whan thei were abedde naked, Withoute slep he was awaked; He torneth on that other side, For that he wolde hise yhen hyde Fro lokynge on that foule wyht.[394] The chambre was al full of lyht, The courtins were of cendal thinne, This newe bryd which lay withinne, Thogh it be noght with his acord, In armes sche beclipte hire lord, 1790 And preide, as he was torned fro, He wolde him torne ayeinward tho; ‘For now,’ sche seith, ‘we ben bothe on.’[395] And he lay stille as eny ston, Bot evere in on sche spak and preide, And bad him thenke on that he seide, Whan that he tok hire be the hond. He herde and understod the bond, How he was set to his penance, And as it were a man in trance 1800 He torneth him al sodeinly, And syh a lady lay him by Of eyhtetiene wynter age, Which was the faireste of visage That evere in al this world he syh: And as he wolde have take hire nyh, [Sidenote: =P. i. 103] Sche put hire hand and be his leve Besoghte him that he wolde leve, And seith that forto wynne or lese[396] He mot on of tuo thinges chese, 1810 Wher he wol have hire such on nyht, Or elles upon daies lyht, For he schal noght have bothe tuo. And he began to sorwe tho, In many a wise and caste his thoght, Bot for al that yit cowthe he noght Devise himself which was the beste. And sche, that wolde his hertes reste, Preith that he scholde chese algate, Til ate laste longe and late 1820 He seide: ‘O ye, my lyves hele, Sey what you list in my querele,[397] I not what ansuere I schal yive: Bot evere whil that I may live, I wol that ye be my maistresse, For I can noght miselve gesse