And hath ther taken what he wolde, His mouth upon the gras he wypeth, And so with feigned chiere him slypeth, 6530 [Sidenote: =P. ii. 348=] That what as evere of schep he strangle, Ther is noman therof schal jangle, As forto knowen who it dede;[535] Riht so doth Stelthe in every stede, Where as him list his preie take. He can so wel his cause make And so wel feigne and so wel glose, That ther ne schal noman suppose, Bot that he were an innocent, And thus a mannes yhe he blent: 6540 So that this craft I mai remene Withouten help of eny mene. [Sidenote: [STEALTH OF LOVERS.]] Ther be lovers of that degre, Which al here lust in privete, As who seith, geten al be Stelthe, And ofte atteignen to gret welthe As for the time that it lasteth.[536] For love awaiteth evere and casteth Hou he mai stele and cacche his preie, Whan he therto mai finde a weie: 6550 For be it nyht or be it day, He takth his part, whan that he may, And if he mai nomore do, Yit wol he stele a cuss or tuo. [Sidenote: Confessor.] Mi Sone, what seist thou therto? Tell if thou dedest evere so. Mi fader, hou? Mi Sone, thus,-- If thou hast stolen eny cuss Or other thing which therto longeth, For noman suche thieves hongeth: 6560 [Sidenote: =P. ii. 349=] Tell on forthi and sei the trouthe. [Sidenote: Confessio Amantis.] Mi fader, nay, and that is routhe, For be mi will I am a thief; Bot sche that is to me most lief, Yit dorste I nevere in privete Noght ones take hire be the kne, (6600*) To stele of hire or this or that, And if I dorste, I wot wel what: And natheles, bot if I lie, Be Stelthe ne be Robberie 6570 Of love, which fell in mi thoght, To hire dede I nevere noght. Bot as men sein, wher herte is failed, Ther schal no castell ben assailed; Bot thogh I hadde hertes ten, And were als strong as alle men, If I be noght myn oghne man And dar noght usen that I can, I mai miselve noght recovere. Thogh I be nevere man so povere, 6580 I bere an herte and hire it is, So that me faileth wit in this, Hou that I scholde of myn acord The servant lede ayein the lord: For if mi fot wolde awher go,[537] Or that min hand wolde elles do, Whan that myn herte is therayein, The remenant is al in vein. And thus me lacketh alle wele, And yit ne dar I nothing stele 6590 [Sidenote: =P. ii. 350=] Of thing which longeth unto love: