For litel merveile it is that thou lokest so pale,
Sethen thou hast medeled with so mony thinges;
With bloweinge att the cole to melte bothe brochez and ringes,
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And other many Iewels, dar I undertake,
And that thi lorde couthe us tel, if we might him overtake.
But lat him go a devel waye, the compaigny is never the wers;
And al suche fals harlotes, I sette not be hem a kers.
But latt pas overe nowe al thes subtilitees,
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