Nor over light, ne recheless, ne to bold,
Ne malapert, ne rinning with your tong;
For she will you abeisen and behold,
And you demaund, why ye were hens so long
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Out of this court, without resort among:
And Rosiall her name is hote aright,
Whose harte †as yet [is] yeven to no wight.
And ye also ben, as I understond,
With love but light avaunced, by your word;