'Now, good lady,' quod I, 'that art so fayre on to loke, 45 reyninge hony by thy wordes, blisse of paradys arn thy lokinges, joye and comfort are thy movinges. What is thy name? How is it that in you is so mokel werkinge vertues enpight, as me semeth, and in none other creature that ever saw I with myne eyen?' 50 'My disciple,' quod she, 'me wondreth of thy wordes and on thee, that for a litel disese hast foryeten my name. Wost thou not wel that I am LOVE, that first thee brought to thy service?' 'O good lady,' quod I, 'is this worship to thee or to thyn excellence, for to come in-to so foule a place? Pardè, somtyme, 55 tho I was in prosperitè and with forayne goodes envolved, I had mokil to done to drawe thee to myn hostel; and yet many werninges thou madest er thou liste fully to graunte, thyn home to make at my dwelling-place; and now thou comest goodly by thyn owne vyse, to comforte me with wordes; and so there-thorough 60 I ginne remembre on passed gladnesse. Trewly, lady, I ne wot whether I shal say welcome or non, sithen thy coming wol as moche do me tene and sorowe, as gladnesse and mirthe. See why: for that me comforteth to thinke on passed gladnesse, that me anoyeth efte to be in doinge. Thus thy cominge bothe 65 gladdeth and teneth, and that is cause of moche sorowe. Lo, lady, how than I am comforted by your comminge'; and with that I gan in teeres to distille, and tenderly wepe. 'Now, certes,' quod Love, 'I see wel, and that me over-thinketh, that wit in thee fayleth, and [thou] art in pointe 70 to dote.' 'Trewly,' quod I, 'that have ye maked, and that ever wol I rue.'