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Felice answerd swiþe an heye,
‘No rape þe nouȝt so, sir Gij;
Ȝete nartow nouȝt y-preysed so,
Þat me ne may finde oþer mo;
Orped þou art and of grete miȝt,
Gode kniȝt & ardi in fiȝt:
& ȝif ich þe hadde mi loue y-ȝeue,
To welden it while þat y liue,
Sleuþe þe schuld ouercome:
Namore wostow of armes loue,
No comen in turnament no in fiȝt.
So amerous þou were anon riȝt.
Y schuld misdo, so þenkeþ me,
& miche agilt oȝaines te,
& ich þi manschip schuld schone,
Wit me euer more to wone.
Gij,’ quod Felice, ‘forhele y nille,
Ac al þe soþe ichil þe telle:
Þou art me leuest of oþer alle,
For þi ‘leman’ ichil the calle;
Ac mi loue no schaltow haue
For noþing þatow may craue,
Er þou perles holden be
& best doand in þis cuntre,
Þat nowhar bi lond no w[e]ter
No be founde þi beter;
& when þou art hold best doinde
In armes þat animan mai finde,
Þat vnder heuen þi beter no be,
Mi loue ichil þan graunti þe.’