Ne therwith was non armour yet be-bled;

For in that tyme who durst have be so wood

Suche bitter woundes that he nold have dred,

With-outen réward, for to lese his blood.

I wold oure tyme myght turne certanly,

And wise[[28]] maneres alwey with vs dwelle;

But love of hauyng brenneth feruently,

More fersere than the verray fuyre of helle.

Allas! who was that man that wold him melle

With[[29]] gold and gemmes that were kevered thus[[30]],