Alain grew weary in the grey dawning,
For he had laboured hard through all the night;
And said: "Farewell, now, Ivanka, sweet delight!
The day is come, I may no longer dight;
But evermore, whether I walk or ride,
I am your own knyghte, and swyved you weel."
"Now, sweetheart," said she, "go and Godspeed!
Thank ye for priking my queynte hard and depe.
And, darling, may God save you now and keep!"
And with that word she almost had to weep.
Alain arose and thought: "Before it is dawn,
I will go creep in softly by friend John."
And found the bedde quickly thereupon.
And caught him round the neck, and softly spake,
Saying: "You, John, you carpet knyghte, awake!
And hear a noble game,
For by Saint James, thryce, no lasse,
In this shorte nyght
Dight I lasse Ivanka on her back
Deyntie feete to the ceiling*,
Kicking and screaming!
Moaning and writhing!
In delite and soore from my sowing and seeding.
I quench her fyr,
Sate her appetyte and swyvve her
A queynte healing al throughe the nyghte.
*Plies
