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and for I see you taken so litel hede, as me thinketh, and wol
not maken by your might the vertue in mercy of the Margaryte
on me for to strecche, so as ye mowe wel in case that you liste,
my blisse and my mirthe arn feld; sicknesse and sorowe ben
alwaye redy. The cope of tene is wounde aboute al my body,
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that stonding is me best; unneth may I ligge for pure misesy
sorowe. And yet al this is litel ynough to be the ernest-silver in
forwarde of this bargayne; for treble-folde so mokel muste I suffer