CONTEMPLATION.
Yet, I trust, that priests love me well?
PITY.
But a few, i-wis, and some never a deal.
CONTEMPLATION.
Why, sir, without me they may not live clean.
PITY.
Nay, that is the least thought that they have of fifteen;
And that maketh me full heavy.
CONTEMPLATION.
How, trow you that there be no remedy?