But then wrought I my craft of bawdry;
I bade Crito go up, and make himself room
To hide him in my chamber among the broom.[42]
Then made I Elicaea sit down a-sewing,
And I with my rock[43] began for to spin;
As who saith of Sempronio we had no knowing.
He knocked at the door, and I let him in;
And for a countenance I did begin
To catch him in mine arms, and said, see, see!
Who kisseth me, Elicaea, and will not kiss thee?
Elicaea for a countenance made her grieved,
And would not speak, but still did sew.
Why speak ye not? quoth Sempronio, be ye moved?
Have I not a cause, quoth she? no, quoth he, I trow.
Ah! traitor, quoth she, full well dost thou know!
Where hast thou been these three days from me,
That the imposthumes and evil death take thee!
Peace, mine Elicaea, quoth he, why say ye thus?
Alas! why put you yourself in this woe?
The hot fire of love so brenneth between us,
That my heart is with yours, wherever I go;
And for three days' absence to say to me so,
In faith, methinketh, ye be to blame.
But now hark well, for here beginneth the game!
Crito, in my chamber above that was hidden,
I think lay not easily, and began to rumble;
Sempronio heard that, and asked who was within,
Above in the chamber that so did tumble.
Who? quoth she; a lover of mine! may-hap, ye stumble,
Quoth he, on the truth, as many one doth.