And him atroketȝ his bretȝ.
And þe soule a-wey getȝ.
Line 8
And on flore me him strecchetȝ.
And litel of him þanne me recchetȝ
And he þas er so proud.
Ne shal he haue bote a cloud.
Line 12
And of þat erer was his
Nou shal he hauen mys.
Et nichil de mundo portabit.
All too Late.
[See p. 253.]
Wonne þin eren dinet: and þi nese scharpet. [folio 169b]
And þin hew dunnet: and þi sennewess starket.
And þin eyen synket: and þi tunge foldet.
And þin honde stinket: and þin fet coldetȝ.
Line 4
And þin lippes blaket: and þin teth ratilet.
And þin hond quaket: and þi þrote ruteletȝ.
—Al to late. al to late. þen is te wayn atte yate.
For may þor no man þenne: penaunce make.
Line 8
Three Certainties of the Day of Death.
Hit beoþ þreo tymes on þo day [folio 8]
Þat soþe to witen me mai:
Þat on ys, þat i shal henne;
Þat oþer, þat y not whenne;
Line 4
Þat þridde is my moste care,
Þat y not whider i shal fare.
Marriage.
¶ Nupcie moriar, quia nubere dulce est.
For hit is mury to beon a wife.
Anglice sic:
ich wolle leose my life.
