shewe th'entent of his desyres. Ah, dere god! that shal be a greet joye! Now, erthely goddesse, take regarde of thy servant, though I be feble; for thou art wont to prayse them better that 95 wolde conne serve in love, al be he ful mener than kinges or princes that wol not have that vertue in mynde. Now, precious Margaryte, that with thy noble vertue hast drawen me in-to love first, me weninge therof to have blisse, [ther]-as galle and aloes are so moche spronge, that savour of 100 swetnesse may I not ataste. Alas! that your benigne eyen, in whiche that mercy semeth to have al his noriture, nil by no waye tourne the clerenesse of mercy to me-wardes! Alas! that your brennande vertues, shyning amonges al folk, and enlumininge al other people by habundaunce of encresing, sheweth to me 105 but smoke and no light! These thinges to thinke in myn herte maketh every day weping in myn eyen to renne. These liggen on my backe so sore, that importable burthen me semeth on my backe to be charged; it maketh me backwarde to meve, whan my steppes by comune course even-forth pretende. These 110 thinges also, on right syde and lift, have me so envolved with care, that wanhope of helpe is throughout me ronne; trewly, +I leve, that graceles is my fortune, whiche that ever sheweth it me-wardes by a cloudy disese, al redy to make stormes of tene; and the blisful syde halt stil awayward, and wol it not suffre to 115 me-wardes to turne; no force, yet wol I not ben conquered. O, alas! that your nobley, so moche among al other creatures commended by +flowinge streme +of al maner vertues, but ther ben wonderful, I not whiche that let the flood to come in-to my soule; wherefore, purely mated with sorowe thorough-sought, 120 my-selfe I crye on your goodnesse to have pitè on this caytif, that in the in[ne]rest degree of sorowe and disese is left, and, without your goodly wil, from any helpe and recovery. These sorowes may I not sustene, but-if my sorowe shulde be told and to you-wardes shewed; although moche space is bitwene 125 us twayne, yet me thinketh that by suche +joleyvinge wordes my disese ginneth ebbe. Trewly, me thinketh that the sowne of my lamentacious weping is right now flowe in-to your presence, and there cryeth after mercy and grace, to which thing (me semeth) thee list non answere to yeve, but with a deynous chere ye 130 commaunden it to avoide; but god forbid that any word shuld of you springe, to have so litel routh! Pardè, pitè and mercy in every Margarite is closed by kynde amonges many other vertues, by qualitees of comfort; but comfort is to me right naught worth, withouten mercy and pitè of you alone; whiche thinges hastely 135 god me graunt for his mercy!