'Ye, swete herte? allas, I may nought ryse
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To knele, and do yow honour in som wyse.'
11. And dressede him upward, and she right tho
Gan bothe here hondes softe upon him leye,
'O, for the love of god, do ye not so
To me,' quod she, 'ey! what is this to seye?
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Sire, come am I to yow for causes tweye;
First, yow to thonke, and of your lordshipe eke