In olde days of the King Artour, Of which that Bretons speken gret honour, All was this lond fulfilled of Faerie; The Elf quene with hire joly compagnie Danced ful oft in many a grene mede, This was the old opinion as I rede; I speke of many hundred yeres ago, But now can no man see non elves mo; For now the grete charitee and prayeres Of limitoures and other holy freres, That serchen every land and every streme, As thikke as motes in the sonne-beme, Blissing halles, chambres, kichenes, and boures, Citees and burghes, castles highe and toures, Thropes and bernes, shepenes and dairies, This maketh that ther ben no Faeries: For ther as wont to walken was an elf, Ther walketh now the limatour himself In undermeles and in morweninges, And sayth his matines and his holy thinges As he goth in his limitatioun. Women may now go safely up and doun, In every bush, and under every tree, Ther is non other Incubus but he, And he ne will don hem no dishonour. And so befell it that this King Artour Had in his hous a lusty bacheler, That on a day came riding fro river: And happed that, alone as she was borne, He saw a maiden walking him beforne, Of which maid he anon, maugre hire hed, By veray force beraft hire maidenhed: For which oppression was swiche clamour, And swiche pursuite unto the King Artour, That damned was this knight for to be ded, By cours of lawe, and shuld have lost his hed, (Paraventure swiche was the statute tho) But that the quene and other ladies mo So longe praieden the king of grace, Til he his lif him granted in the place, And yaf him to the quene, all at hire will To chese whether she wold him save or spill. The quene thanketh the king with all hire might; And after this thus spake she to the knight, Whan that she saw hire time upon a day. Thou standest yet (quod she) in swiche array, That of thy lif yet hast thou not seuretee; I grant thee lif if thou canst tellen me What thing is it that women most desiren: Beware, and kepe thy nekke bone from yren. And if thou canst not tell it me anon, Yet wol I yeve thee leve for to gon A twelvemonth and a day to seke and lere An answer suffisant in this matere; And seuretee wol I have, or that thou pace, The body for to yelden in this place. Wo was the knight, and sorwefully he siketh: But what? he may not don all as him liketh. And at the last he chese him for to wende, And come agen right at the yeres ende With swiche answer as God wold him purvay, And taketh his leve, and wendeth forth his way. He seketh every hous and every place, Wher as he hopeth for to finden grace, To lernen what thing women loven moste; But he ne coude ariven in no coste, Wher as he mighte find in this matere Two creatures according in fere.