She falleth him to fote, and swowneth there
1315
Dischevele, with her brighte gilte here,
And seith, 'have mercy! [let me with yow ryde!]
[Thise lordes], which that wonen me besyde
Wil me destroyen only for your sake.
And, so ye wil me now to wyve take,
1320
As ye han sworn, than wol I yive yow leve
To sleen me with your swerd now sone at eve!