No word þou schalt lye.
The next nyȝht þat schall come
He schall do þat he is wone:
Loke þat sche aspye!
Sey hyre þat sche schew hym nouȝht — [schew = sew 178 = sue.]
Line 145
So myght sche sone to deth be brouȝt;
Byd hyre lye full styll!
Iff þou do as I þe rede,
Thow schalt haue rych mede,
Of rede gold thy fylle."
Line 150
"Ȝis, sche seyde, well glad am I
Forto go to my lady;
I schall be þer full rathe.
Sche hath do me full mykyll gode;
I ame full Joyfull in my mode
Line 155
To werne hyre of hyre skathe."
Thorow þe deuyllus intysmente
Te þe castell sche is wente,
And salewyȝh þe lady þere.
"Leffe madam, seyd sche,
Line 160
I wolde speke a word with ȝow,
Iff it ȝoure wyll were.
Comly lady gente & fre,
I wold þe tell a priuyte,
Iff þou me not bewrye.
Line 165
Thow schall leue onne my lare;
Thynge þat thow ne wyst are,
Herkyns now, I schall þe sey.
Thy lord, þat thow louys so myche,
He betrays þe sykerlych
Line 170
And doyht þe vylony:
He gose fro þe Iche nyȝht ons
To a womane in hys wonys.
Luke þat thow aspye!
The nex(t) nyght þat schall come
Line 175
He schall do as he is wone,
By hyre forto lye.
Bot at þou sew hym nouȝht:
So myght þou sone to deth be broȝht;
Styll þat thow lye!"
Line 180
The lady spake wordys no mo:
"Womane, sche seyd, if it be so,
Thow schall haue þi mede.
Crystys cursse on þer hedys thane,
The wych & hyre lorys-mane,
Line 185
Fore þat ilke dede!"
The fyrst nyȝht þat after came
The knyght wente to bede anone,
And hys lady dere.
Styll sche ley as sche slepe,
Line 190
Fore þat sch(e) wolde take kepe
The soth how it were.
Hyre lorde wend sche hade slepe tho,
And ros vp & gane to go,
Als he was bowne;
Line 195
Into his chapell he gane wende,
To pray to owre lady hende,
That bare godys sone.
When the lady wyst þo
That hyre lord was fro hyre go,
Line 200
Sche seyd alas þat whyle:
"Now I wote þat it is,
The wydew seyd me I-wys [soth fehlt.]
My lord had do me gyle.
He louys an oþer better thane me.
Line 205
Alas, alas! þan seyd sche,
Myne herte is full of care.
The werke þat he wyrkys now
It schall not fall fore hys prow,
It schall hym rew full sore!"
Line 210
Thus sche gane alone speke,
And thouȝt how (sche) myȝht it wreke.
To schend hyre-selue þat tyde,
Sche drew a knyfe, soth to seyne,
And slew hyre feyre chylder tweyne
Line 215
That ley be hyre syde.
When sche had þis werke wroȝht,
Sche seyd alas! & hyre bethouȝht,
"Myne herte is full of sorow!
Wyte my lorde what I haue done,
Line 220
He wyll me scle ryȝht sone,
That no-mane schall me borow.
Ney, þat schall not be so,
Wers I schall my-selue do,
What-euer þerof fall."
Line 225
With a knyffe, was kene & scherpe,
She smote hyre-selue to þe herte —
That was werst of all!
