"The wrecche is deed, the devel have his bones!"
116. Thou mayst allone here wepe and crye and knele;
But, love a woman that she woot it nought,
And she wol quyte that thou shalt not fele;
Unknowe, unkist, and lost that is un-sought.
810
What! many a man hath love ful dere y-bought
[Twenty winter] that his lady wiste,
That never yet his lady mouth he kiste.
117. What? shulde he therfor fallen in despeyr,