Bot natheles sche herde his bone
And seide, ‘In trust of Cristes lawe,
Which don was on the crois and slawe, 770
Thou bysne man, behold and se.’
With that to god upon his kne
Thonkende he tok his sihte anon,
Wherof thei merveile everychon,
Bot Elda wondreth most of alle:
This open thing which is befalle
Concludeth him be such a weie,