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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