240. Than spak he thus, 'O lady myn Criseyde,
1675
Wher is your feyth, and wher is your biheste?
Wher is your love, wher is your trouthe,' he seyde;
'Of Diomede have ye now al this feste!
Allas, I wolde have trowed at the leste,
That, sin ye nolde in trouthe to me stonde,
1680
That ye thus nolde han holden me in honde!
241. Who shal now trowe on any othes mo?