110
'Help me out of this distresse,
And yeve me grace my lord to see
Sone, or wite wher-so he be,
Or how he fareth, or in what wyse,
And I shal make you sacrifyse,
115
And hoolly youres become I shal
With good wil, body, herte, and al;
And but thou wilt this, lady swete,