Wher hit a-vayle oþur elles nouht,
I wol don as þou hast bi-souht."
Þe hermyte Mekely kneled adoun
And þonked hire wiþ deuocioun.
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ÞE Damysele wende forþ hire wey
Abouten hire murþus and hire pley.
And as heo streihte þorw a strete,
Heo þouhte what heo þe Hermyte bi-hete;
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And in a strete as heo com bi,
Heo seih a Chapel of vre ladi:
In to þat Chapel heo made entre.
Þer was an ymage of Marie fre,
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Of þat blisful Mayden Mylde,
Vppon hire barm heo bar hire childe.
Þe damysele caste on hire a siht
And þouhte þat ymage swete and briht,
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And þouhte, bi foreward hou heo was bounde
To knele bi-foren hire on þe grounde;
Heo tok to god non oþur reward
But for schome to breke forward.
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Heo kneled adoun vppon hire knes
And seide þe paternostres and þe Aues,
As was hire foreward furst bi-fore,
And seide: "Ihesu, lord, þyn Ore!
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ffor-ȝif þe Hermyte his trespas
And graunt hym Merci, þorw þi gras,
Of al þat euer he haþ mys-do
In al his lyf ȝut hider-to."
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ÞEnne þhouȝte þe damisele verreyly
Þe Babe loked on hire wroþly,
Hire þhouȝte þo he tornde his Bak,
Such wordes to his mooder he spak:
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"Moder, seostou hou ȝond neih hend
Myn enemy preyeþ for my frend?"
Hire þhouȝte þe Moder onswered aȝein
Wiþ wordus Mylde, plat and pleyn:
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"Sone, for þy ffrendes sake,
What-euere þin Enemy haþ mis-take
ffor-ȝiue hit, sone, of þi Merci,
As þou art, lord, God almihti,
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