(9)
¶ To greue me, men þenke it game
To breke þe lawe þat y þe bed;
In despyt, forswere name,
By woundis y had in handis and hed.
Line 116
I do þe worschipe, þou dost me shame;
I ȝaf þe lyf, þou ȝaf me ded,
Mirre and galle to drynke wiþ grame.
I ȝeue þe my body in fourme of bred.
Line 120
Ȝe fare wiþ me, as gest his yn doþ borwe,
Resceyue to-day, and put me out to [folio 109a] morwe.
Agayn to synne whan ȝe go,
Shamely ȝe put me ȝow fro.
Line 124
And ȝe desyre I be ȝoure foo,
Ȝe gete but wreche and dowble sorwe.
(10)
¶ And ȝe defoule my holy place,
Þat turneþ þe chirche out of his gyse.
Line 128
Holy chirche is spirytuall grace;
Þe duwe dette, deuyne seruyse.
Þey calle me as he þat no god was.
Þat cure of soules don despise,
Line 132
ffro hem y wole turne my face,
And calle hem as fooles out-casten fro wyse.
Þat sellen soules for temperal getyng,
Þey maken skourges to here owe betyng;
Line 136
Here good dayes ben wastyng,
And þey, to helle hastyng
To be wiþ fendis chastyng,
fulfille on hem my thretyng.
Line 140
(11)
¶ My swerd is fyre þat brynneþ bryȝt,
Shal shede þe riȝt fro þe wrong.
I brenne sheldis and swerdis in fyȝt;
As whirlewynd y skatre þe fals þrong.
Line 144
No kyng shal be saued by his myȝt,
Ne þe geaunt, be he neuere so strong.
