And frendles chylderyn that haddyn grett nede,
I dude them cure and alle for the,
And toke no rewarde of them nor mede.
Now as a wrecche ffor fals beleve,
That I shewyd in temptynge this mayde,
My hand is ded and doth me greve!
Alas! that evyr I here assyde.
Angelus. Woman, thi sorwe to have delayde,
Wurchep that childe that ther is born:
Towche the clothis ther he is layde,