In her bed mournyng the her layde, God wote, ryght wofull was her mone: Alas! myne owne dere love, she sayd, Syth ye be dead my joye is gone. Have i eaten thy herte in my body? A, noble knight, withouten fere ! That herte fhal certayne with me dye, For wo and paine my life is spente. My husbande, full of crueltè, Why have you done this curfed dede? Ye have him flaine, so have ye me, The hie god graunte to you your mede! Than fayd the lord, My lady fayre, Forgive me if i have misdone, I repent i was not ware That ye wolde your herte oppreffe fo fone. 460 470 The lady fayd, I you forgive, Adew, my lorde, for evermore; My time is come, i may not live, The lorde fayd, I am wo therfore. Great was the forowe of more and leffe, All of her dethe full wofull were. Her complaynt pyteous was to here, Adieu, my lorde, nowe mufte we discever, I dye to you, husbande, a true wedded fere, in Faguell was found ever. As any I am clene of the knight of curtesy, 480 And wrongfully are we brought to confufion; My lorde, ye were to blame truely, His herte to make me for to eate, But fythe it is buryed in mi body, On it fhall i never eate other meate. 490 |