That deth was come, and all my lyfe was spent.
Out of my body my soule than it wente
To Purgatory, for to be purifyed,
That after that it might be glorified.
CAP. XLII.
HOWE REMEMBRAUNCE MADE HIS EPYTAPHY ON HIS GRAVE.
The good dame Mercy, with dame Charite,
My body buried full right humbly,
In a fayre temple of olde antiquite:
There was for me a dirige devoutly,
And with many a masse full right solemynely;