That he ne roreth lich a Bere;[552] 160
And as it were a wilde beste,
The whom no reson mihte areste,[553]
He ran Ethna the hell aboute,
Wher nevere yit the fyr was oute,
P. i. 165
Fulfild of sorghe and gret desese,
That he syh Acis wel at ese.
Til ate laste he him bethoghte,
As he which al Envie soghte,