I may fortune for to ryme
Somwhat of your madnesse;
For small is your sadnesse
To put any man in lack,
And say yll behynde his back: 1240
And my wordes marke truly,
That ye can nat[243] byde thereby,
For smegma non est cinnamomum,
But de absentibus nil nisi bonum.
Complayne, or do what ye wyll,