For none is lost who will not yield him so.
How should ye be damned? That were pity indeed.
How came ye hither? I would fain know with speed;
And ye were so high in air but now.
I prithee tell me thereof, if ye would allow.
Never saw I any so high, by my troth.
EMMA
Mine eme, I be alas full loath
To reckon up the tale of my aventures.
I gave me over wholly to the devil’s lures,