That if hire lord his herte wente[728]
To love in eny other place,
The scherte, he seith, hath such a grace, 2250
That if sche mai so mochel make[729]
That he the scherte upon him take,
He schal alle othre lete in vein
And torne unto hire love ayein.
Who was tho glad bot Deianyre?
Hire thoghte hire herte was afyre
Til it was in hire cofre loke,