And at the laste, he gan his breeth to drawe,
1120
And of his swough sone after that adawe,
161. And gan bet minde and reson to him take,
But wonder sore he was abayst, y-wis.
And with a syk, whan he gan bet a-wake,
He seyde, 'O mercy, god, what thing is this?'
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'Why do ye with your-selven thus amis?'
Quod tho Criseyde, 'is this a mannes game?