And every night, as was his wone to done,
He stood the brighte mone to beholde,
And al his sorwe he to the mone tolde;
650
And seyde, 'y-wis, whan thou art horned newe,
I shal be glad, if al the world be trewe!
94. I saugh thyn hornes olde eek by the morwe,
Whan hennes rood my righte lady dere,
That cause is of my torment and my sorwe;
655