And doun again, and yeldeth up the gost.
Tisbe rist up, withouten noise or [bost],
And seigh her wimpel and his empty shethe,
And eek his swerd, that him hath doon to dethe;
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Than spak she thus: 'My woful hand,' quod she,
'Is strong y-nogh in swiche a werk to me;
For love shal yive me strengthe and hardinesse
To make my wounde large y-nogh, I gesse.