The Marchaunt seide, geve me myn,
And thou schalt have chaffare thin,
Gif thou wilt understonde;
This seide the Prest, be my leute,
Alle thi synnes telle thou me,
For no thyng that thou ne wende.
The Marchaunt seide, wil I was yong,
And coude gon and spake with tung,
I was jolif and wilde;
Be myn own sister I lay,