I-wysse with as god wylle hit worþe3 to 3oure3."
He hasppe3 his fayre hals his arme3 wyth-inne,
& kysses hym as comlyly as he2 couþe awyse:
"Tas yow þere my cheuicaunce, I cheued no more,
I wowche hit saf fynly, þa3 feler hit were."
"Hit is god," quod þe god mon, "grant mercy þerfore,
Hit may be such, hit is þe better, &1 3e me breue wolde
Where 3e wan þis ilk wele, biwytte of hor3 seluen?"
"Þat wat3 not forward," quod he, "frayst me no more,
For 3e haftan þat yow tyde3, trawe3e non oþer