(8)
Þe deuel me temptide neuere but þrie;
But þou me temptist from day to day
Wiþ cursynge, aftir venieaunce dooþ crie;
To stire mi wraþþe þou wolt a-saye;
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¶ Þou woldist, & ony wolde me bie, [page 86]
Weel worse þan iudas me bitraie;
At my werk þou hast enuye,
Þat weel ne woo may þee noon paye.
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¶ For & þou ouer me myȝtist, as y ouer þee may,
Weel bittirli þou woldist me bynde:
I forȝaf, & þou seiest naye;
Þus y am freend, & þou vnkynde.
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(9)
I haue bouȝt þi loue ful dere:
Vnkinde! whi forsakist þou myn?
I ȝaf þee myn herte & blood in fere;
Vnkinde! whi nyl þou ȝeue me þin?
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¶ Þou art an vnkynde omagere,
For with my foo þou makist þi fyn;
Þou seruest me with febil chere;
To him þin herte wolt hooli enclyne.
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¶ And y am lord of blis & pyne,
And al þing may y lose [page 87] & bynde,
Aȝen þee wole y my ȝatis tyne,
Al þe while þou art to þi freend vnkynde.
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(10)
Man! biþinke þee what þou art,
From whens þou come, and whidir þou art boun!
For þouȝ þou to-day be in hele & qwart,
To-morewe y may putte þee doun.
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¶ Lete mylde & meckenes melte in þin herte,
Þat þou rue on my passïoun,
With widë woundis depe & smerte,
Wiþ crossë, nailis, spere, & crowne.
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