XXX
‘Mickle is the men’s blood I have spent
To doe thee and me some good’;
Sayes, ‘Ever alacke, my fayre lady,
I thinke that I was woode[372]!’
XXXI
And he shope[373] the cross on his right sho’lder
Of the white flesh and the redd,
And he went him into the Holy Land,
Wheras Christ was quicke and deade.
FOOTNOTES:
[362] unbethought = bethought.
[363] ding = smite.
[364] sikt = sighed.
[365] againe = in return.
[366] deemèd = doomed.