Two excerpts from Chaucer’s

The Legend of Good Women (after 1386) (2)

I kneling by this flour, in good entente

Abood, to knowen what this peple mente,

As stille as any stoon; til at the laste,

This god of love on me his eyen caste,

And seyde, "who kneleth ther?" and I answerde

Unto his asking, whan that I hit herde,

And seyde, "sir, hit am I"; and com him neer,

And salued him. Quod he, "what dostow heer

So nigh myn owne flour, so boldely?

For it were better worthy, trewely,

A worm to neghen neer my flour than thou."

"And why, sir," quod I, "and hit lyke yow?"

"For thou," quod he, "art ther-to nothing able.

Hit is my relik, digne and delytable,

And thou my fo, and al my folk werreyest,

And of myn olde servaunts thou misseyest,

And hindrest hem, with thy translacioun,

And lettest folk from hir devocioun

To serve me, and holdest hit folye

To serve Love. Thou mayest hit nat denye;