STORY OF APOLLON1US OF TYRE. 213
And waiteth after great beyete, But all for nought, she was forlete, That no man wolde there come. Whan he therof hath hede nome And knew, that she was yet a rnaide, Unto his owne man he saide, That he with strength ayein her leve Tho shulde her maidenhede bereve. This man goth in, but so it ferde, Whan he her wofull pleintes herde And he therof hath take kepe, Him liste better for to wepe Than don ought elles to the game. And thus she kepte her self fro shame And kneled down to therthe and praide Unto this man and thus she saide: If so be, that thy maister wolde, That I his gold encrese sholde, It may nought falle by this wey, But sufFre me to go my wey Out of this hous, where I am in, And I shall make him for to win In some place elles of the town, Be so it be of religion, Where that honeste women dwelle. And thus thou might thy maister telle, That whan I have a chambre there, Let him do cry ay wide where, What lord, that hath his doughter dere And is in will, that she shall lere Of such a scole that is trewe, I shall her teche of things newe, Whiche as none other woman can In all this londe. And tho this man Her tale hath herde, he goth ayein And tolde unto his maister plein, • That she hath saide. And therupon,