Geoffrey Chaucer

“ In noble corage oghte been areste, And weyen every thing by equitee, And ever han reward to his owen degree. For, sir, hit is no maystrie for a lord To dampne a man with-oute answere or word; And, for a lord, that is ful foul to use. And if so be he may him nat excuse, 390 [But] axeth mercy with a sorweful herte, And profreth him, right in his bare sherte, To been right at your owne Iugement, Than oghte a god, by short avysement, Considre his owne honour and his trespas. For sith no cause of deeth lyth in his cas, Yow oghte been the lighter merciable ”

“ Than spak Alceste, the worthieste quene, And seyde, "god, right of your curtesye, Ye moten herknen if he can replye 320Agayns these points that ye han to him meved; A god ne sholde nat be thus agreved, But of his deitee he shal be stable, And therto rightful and eek merciable. He shal nat rightfully his yre wreke Or he have herd the tother party speke. Al ne is nat gospel that is to yow pleyned; The god of love herth many a tale y-feyned. ”

“ Now wol I seyn what penance thou shalt do 470For thy trespas, and understond hit here: Thou shalt, whyl that thou livest, yeer by yere, The moste party of thy lyve spende In making of a glorious Legende Of Gode Wemen, maidenes and wyves, That were trewe in lovinge al hir lyves; And telle of false men that hem bitrayen, That al hir lyf ne doon nat but assayen How many wemen they may doon a shame; For in your world that is now holden game. ”

“ Him oghte now to have the lesse peyne; 420He hath mad many a lay and many a thing. "Now as ye been a god, and eek a king, I, your Alceste, whylom quene of Trace, I axe yow this man, right of your grace, That ye him never hurte in al his lyve ”

“ And yeve me grace so long for to live, 450That I may knowe soothly what ye be That han me holpen, and put in swich degree. But trewely I wende, as in this cas, Naught have agilt, ne doon to love trespas. Forwhy a trewe man, with-outen drede, Hath nat to parten with a theves dede; Ne a trewe lover oghte me nat blame, Thogh that I speke a fals lover som shame. They oghte rather with me for to holde, For that I of Creseyde wroot or tolde, 460Or of the Rose ”