And noman wot the cause why.
Mi Sone, schrif thee now forthi:
Hast thou be Malencolien?
Confessio Amantis.
Ye, fader, be seint Julien,
Bot I untrewe wordes use,
I mai me noght therof excuse:
And al makth love, wel I wot,
Of which myn herte is evere hot,
So that I brenne as doth a glede