Chapter L

Lady, thy sorrow can I not portray Under that cross, nor his grievous penance; But, for your bothe’s pain, I you do pray, Let not our *aller foe* make his boastance, *the foe of us all — That he hath in his listes, with mischance, Satan* *Convicte that* ye both have bought so dear; *ensnared that which* As I said erst, thou ground of all substance! Continue on us thy piteous eyen clear.