And what it sayd, ye shal have knowleching.
It sayd, god wot, and that ful pitously,
Lyke as she was disposed in her hert,
No misfortune that she took grevously;
Al oon to her it was, the joy and smert,
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Somtyme no thank for al her good desert.
Other comfort she wanted non coming,
And so used, it greved her nothing.
Desyringe her, and lowly béseching,