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Of love they know not; though they sing,

Loud-voiced, their woeful suffering,

And loss of appetite and sleep:

Natheless I see these losels keep

Fat and well liking, feeding higher

Than abbot, canon, monk, or prior.

Moreover, ’tis my strict command

Thou show’st a free and generous hand

Towards thy mistress’ serving-maid;

Bestow on her a robe well made

Of fine wove stuff, and she shall spread

Thy name abroad for goodlihead.

In honour, marked by reverence, hold

All those thy lady hath enrolled

As special friends, great service they

May render thee in many a way,

And praise, perchance, bestow on thee

For gentle speech and courtesy.

Depart not from the countryside,

Or if perchance thou needs must ride

Afar, leave thou thy heart with her

Whom thou wouldst choose its cofferer.

Then haste thy steps, that thou amain

Mayst win to her sweet side again,

And let her see how wearily

Time’s foot doth lag, unless thine eye

Feast on her.

Therewithal is sped

My counsel, which shall well bestead

My faithful servitor, and bring

Him and his love to harbouring.”