I Gave My Whole Heart Up, For

To Maken Vertue Of Necessite.

For In Their Hearts Doth Nature Stir Them So Then People Long On Pilgrimage To Go And Palmers To Be Seeking Foreign Strands To Distant Shrines Renowned In Sundry Lands.

Ther Nis No Werkman, Whatsoevere He Be, That May Bothe Werke Wel And Hastily.

By God, If Women Had Written Stories, As Clerks Had Within Here Oratories, They Would Have Written Of Men More Wickedness Than All The Mark Of Adam May Redress.

The Latter End Of Joy Is Woe.