That ther nys servant in myn hous
Ne non of tho that ben aboute,
That ech of hem ne stant in doute, 90
And wenen that I scholde rave
For Anger that thei se me have;
And so thei wondre more and lasse,
Til that thei sen it overpasse.
Bot, fader, if it so betide,
That I aproche at eny tide
The place wher my ladi is,