And as a cat wolde ete fisshes
Withoute wetinge of his cles,
So wolde he do, bot natheles 1110
He faileth ofte of that he wolde.
Confessor.
Mi Sone, if thou of such a molde
Art mad, now tell me plein thi schrifte.
Amans.
Nay, fader, god I yive a yifte,
That toward love, as be mi wit,