As I have seyd, your beste is to do so.
But alwey, goode nece, to stinte his wo,
So lat your daunger sucred ben a lyte,
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That of his deeth ye be nought for to wyte.'
56. Criseyde, which that herde him in this wyse,
Thoughte, 'I shal [fele] what he meneth, y-wis.'
'Now, eem,' quod she, 'what wolde ye devyse,
What is your reed I sholde doon of this?'
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