þo it alles op a brake,
þe ȝonge man to his brede spake,
With wel fayre bere:
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'Leman, haue guod day,
No lenger ich ne may
With þe by sene here.
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¶ Wende ich mot fer out of londe,
And soffry tene & peynes stronge,
My synnes to bete.
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Bothe ich mot, for godis sake,
ffader & moder myne forsake,
And þe þat art so swete.'
Line 138
þo hy hadde y-herd þe tale,
Hire blesse turnde to bale,
A-swoȝe hy fel to grounde.
Line 141
¶ þo hy of swoȝenynge a-ros,
Wel sore here a-gros,
With care hy was y-bounde.
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