After her departinge, the same weke,
To hast me forwarde to my journeyes ende.
Therto, quod I, I do well condyscende.
Fare well, quod she, I may no longer tary;
My frendes wyll come; of that were I lothe:
I shall retayne you in my memory,
And they it knewe they wolde with me be wrothe.
To love you best I promise you my trouthe!
And than mine eyen great sorowe shewed,
Wyth teres salte my chekes were endewed.