Pucell.
A, a! sayd she, ye must take a payne a whyle;
I must depart, by the compulcyon
Of my frendes, I wyl not you begyle,
Though they me led to a ferre nacion,
My heart shall be without variacion
Wyth you present, in perfite sykernes,
As true and stable without doublenes.
To me to come is harde and daungerous,
When I am there; for gyauntes ugly,