Er thou so lightly do my wo to falle.
470
68. The deeth may wel out of my brest departe
The lyf, so longe may this sorwe myne;
But fro my soule shal Criseydes darte
Out never-mo; but doun with Proserpyne,
Whan I am deed, I wol go wone in pyne;
475
And ther I wol eternally compleyne
My wo, and how that twinned be we tweyne.