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‘My dere doghter Venus,’ quod Saturne, ‘My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne, Hath more power than wot any man. Myn is the drenching in the see so wan; Myn is the prison in the derke cote; Myn is the strangling and hanging by the throte; The murmure, and the cherles rebelling, The groyning, and the pryvee empoysoning: I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun Whyl I dwelle in the signe of the leoun. Myn is the ruine of the hye halles, The falling of the toures and of the walles Upon the mynour or the carpenter. I slow Sampsoun in shaking the piler; And myne be the maladyes colde, The derke tresons, and the castes olde; My loking is the fader of pestilence. Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight, Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight. Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet nathelees Bitwixe yow ther moot be som tyme pees, Al be ye noght of o complexioun, That causeth al day swich divisioun. I am thin ayel, redy at thy wille; Weep thou namore, I wol thy lust fulfille.’ ‘My dere doghter Venus,’ quod Saturne, ‘My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne, Hath more power than wot any man. Myn is the drenching in the see so wan; Myn is the prison in the derke cote; Myn is the strangling and hanging by the throte; The murmure, and the cherles rebelling, The groyning, and the pryvee empoysoning: I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun Whyl I dwelle in the signe of the leoun. Myn is the ruine of the hye halles, The falling of the toures and of the walles Upon the mynour or the carpenter. I slow Sampsoun in shaking the piler; And myne be the maladyes colde, The derke tresons, and the castes olde; My loking is the fader of pestilence. Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight, Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight. Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet nathelees Bitwixe yow ther moot be som tyme pees, Al be ye noght of o complexioun, That causeth al day swich divisioun. I am thin ayel, redy at thy wille; Weep thou namore, I wol thy lust fulfille.’

Original Text

Modern Text

‘My dere doghter Venus,’ quod Saturne, ‘My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne, Hath more power than wot any man. Myn is the drenching in the see so wan; Myn is the prison in the derke cote; Myn is the strangling and hanging by the throte; The murmure, and the cherles rebelling, The groyning, and the pryvee empoysoning: I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun Whyl I dwelle in the signe of the leoun. Myn is the ruine of the hye halles, The falling of the toures and of the walles Upon the mynour or the carpenter. I slow Sampsoun in shaking the piler; And myne be the maladyes colde, The derke tresons, and the castes olde; My loking is the fader of pestilence. Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight, Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight. Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet nathelees Bitwixe yow ther moot be som tyme pees, Al be ye noght of o complexioun, That causeth al day swich divisioun. I am thin ayel, redy at thy wille; Weep thou namore, I wol thy lust fulfille.’ ‘My dere doghter Venus,’ quod Saturne, ‘My cours, that hath so wyde for to turne, Hath more power than wot any man. Myn is the drenching in the see so wan; Myn is the prison in the derke cote; Myn is the strangling and hanging by the throte; The murmure, and the cherles rebelling, The groyning, and the pryvee empoysoning: I do vengeance and pleyn correccioun Whyl I dwelle in the signe of the leoun. Myn is the ruine of the hye halles, The falling of the toures and of the walles Upon the mynour or the carpenter. I slow Sampsoun in shaking the piler; And myne be the maladyes colde, The derke tresons, and the castes olde; My loking is the fader of pestilence. Now weep namore, I shal doon diligence That Palamon, that is thyn owne knight, Shal have his lady, as thou hast him hight. Though Mars shal helpe his knight, yet nathelees Bitwixe yow ther moot be som tyme pees, Al be ye noght of o complexioun, That causeth al day swich divisioun. I am thin ayel, redy at thy wille; Weep thou namore, I wol thy lust fulfille.’
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