I will so swere, that they thinke I am true;
For ever falshed with his owne estate
To a lady cometh, and sayeth to eschew
An inconvenience that ye do not rue;
Your love is nought ymaginacion knoweth;
I swere in lykewise and anon she troweth.
That we have sayd is of very trouth,
Her love she casteth right clene out of minde;
That with her love she is wonderly wroth;
With fayned kindnes we do her so blynde,