With dolefull voice then thus to her I spake:
15.
“Unwrap thy woes, what euer wight thou bee,
And stint in tyme[1502] to spill thy self with playnt,
Tell what thou art, and whence, for well I see
Thou canst not dure, with sorrow thus attaynt:”
And, with that word of sorrow, all forfaynt
Shee looked vp, and, prostrate, as shee lay,
With piteous sound, lo, thus shee gan to say:
16.