And, god! so wisly thou me, woful wrecche,
1445
To reste bringe out of this cruel sorwe,
I wol my-selven slee if that ye drecche.
But of my deeth though litel be to recche,
Yet, er that ye me cause so to smerte,
Dwel rather here, myn owene swete herte!
1450
208. For trewely, myn owene lady dere,
Tho sleightes yet that I have herd yow stere