THE REEVE: But she, defying us, this very day
Like wicked thief hath stole herself away.
Thus this poor lord such deeps of gloom is in
Vows he'll not wash, nor shave again his chin
Till found is she: He groaneth, sheddeth tears--

THE FRIAR: And swears her guardians ten shall lose their ears!

THE REEVE: Wherefore are we in mighty perturbation,
Amazed, distraught and filled with consternation.
Thus do our bells ring out their wild alarms,
Our civic bands do muster under arms;
Drums shall be drummed the countryside around,
Until our truant Duchess we have found,
And we have wed this most elusive dame
Unto Sir Agramore of Biename.

THE FRIAR: And yield her thus to woes and bitter shame!

THE REEVE: So speak me, fellows; as ye came this way
Saw ye aught of this wilful, errant may?

Answered JOCELYN: "Neither to-day nor any other day."

"Why then," fumed the Reeve, "here have we been at great expense o' breath
and time and all to no purpose. Come, Friar, beseech thee, let us haste to
begone."

So Friar John got slowly to his feet
Complaining loud of hurry and of heat,