Therof I may me noght excuse:
Min herte is growen into Ston,
So that my lady therupon
Hath such a priente of love grave,
That I can noght miselve save.
Opponit Confessor.What seist thou, Sone, as of thin Ere?
Respondet Amans.Mi fader, I am gultyf there;
For whanne I may my lady hiere,
Mi wit with that hath lost his Stiere: 560
I do noght as Uluxes dede,