f. 31

Now certis suete, thogh that ye
thus causeles, the causer be
of my dedely, adversyte
your manly reson, oght hit to respite
to sleue your frende, and namely me
that never yet, in no degre
offended you, as wisly he
That al wote, out of wo my soule quyte

But for I shewed, yow Arcite
al that men wolde, to me write
and was so besy, you to delyte
my honor safe, meke kynde and fre
therfor ye put, on me the wite
and of me rek, not a myte
thogh the suerde, of sorow byte
my woful hert, thro your cruelte

My suete foo, why do ye so for shame
and thenke ye, that furthered be your name
to love a newe, and ben untrew, nay
and put you, in sclaunder now, and blame
and do to me, adversite, and grame
that love you most, god, wel thou wost alway
yet come ayen, and be al pleyn so[m]me day
and ture al this, that hath be mys, to game
and al for yeve, while that I lyve, may

Lo hert myn, al this is for to seyn
as wheder shal I prey, or elles pleyn
whiche is the wey, to doon yow to be trewe
for either mot I have yow, in my cheyn
or with the dethe, ye mot dep[ar]te us tweyn
ther ben non other mene, weyes newe
for god so wisly, upon my soule rewe
as verrely ye sleen me, with the peyn
that may ye se, unfeyned of myn hewe

For thus ferforthe, have I my dethe soght