In floytes made he discordaunce,

And in his musik, with mischaunce,

He wolde seyn, with notes newe,

That he [ne] fond no womman trewe,

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Ne that he saugh never, in his lyf,

Unto hir husbonde a trewe wyf;

Ne noon so ful of honestee,

That she nil laughe and mery be

Whan that she hereth, or may espye,