(120)

Anoon the neddres gonne hir for to stinge,

700

And she hir deeth receyveth, with good chere,

For love of Antony, that was hir so dere:—

And this is [storial sooth], hit is no fable.

Now, er I finde a man thus trewe and stable,

And wol for love his deeth so freely take,

705

I pray god lat our hedes never ake!