& ȝe ar knyȝt com-lokest kyd of your elde,

Your worde & your worchip walkeȝ ay quere,

& I haf seten by your-self here sere twyes,

Ȝet herde I neuer of your hed helde no wordeȝ

Þat euer longed to luf, lasse ne more;

& ȝe, þat ar so cortays & coynt of your hetes,

Oghe to a ȝonke þynk ȝern to schewe,

& teche sum tokeneȝ of trweluf craftes.

Why ar ȝe lewed, þat alle þe los weldeȝ,

er elles ȝe demen me to dille, your dalyaunce to herken?