Than shulde ye fele wher it wer so or noon;
For in this worlde living is ther noon
That fayner wolde your hertes wil fulfille.
For bothe I love, and eek dreed yow so sore,
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And algates moot, and have doon yow, ful yore,
That bet loved is noon, ne never shal;
And yit I wolde beseche yow of no more
But leveth wel, and be nat wrooth ther-fore,
And lat me serve yow forth; lo! this is al.