And list not ones, of grace, for to see
Unto my trouthe through her crueltee;
And, most of alle, yit I me complayne,
That she hath joy to laughen at my peyne!
And wilfully hath [she] my deeth y-sworn
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Al giltëlees, and wot no cause why
Save for the trouthe that I have had aforn
To her alone to serve faithfully!
O god of lovë! unto thee I cry,