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As fhe, that was fwounende feint,
She fell and hath her felf adreint.
With Frixus and this fhepe forth swam,
Till he to thile of Colchos cam,
Where Juno the goddeffe he fonde,
Which toke the fhepe unto the londe
And fet it there in fuch a wife,
As thou to-fore haft herd devife,
Wherof cam after all the wo,
Why Jafon was forfwore fo

Unto Medee, as it is spoke.

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5.

Hic tractat de illa

I shall here afterward declare,

Which maketh one riche, an other bare.

Plus capit ufura fibi, quam debetur, et illud
Fraude collocata fepe latenter agit.
Sic amor exceffus quam fepe fuos ut avarus
Spirat et unius tres capit ipfe loco.

Upon the bench fittend on high

fpecie avaricie, que With avarice ufure I figh,

ufura dicitur, cuius

creditor in pecunia Ful clothed of his owne suite,

tantum numerata

jure debetur incre

plus quam fibi de Which after gold maketh chase and suite mentum lucri ad- With his brocours, that renne aboute,

auget.

Liche unto racches in a route.

Such lucre is none above grounde,

Which is nought of tho racches founde.
For where they se beyete fterte,

That shall hem in no wife afterte,

But they it drive into the net
Of lucre, whiche ufure hath fet.

Ufure with the riche dwelleth,
To all that ever he bieth and felleth,
He hath ordeined of his fleight
Mesure double and double weight.
Outward he felleth by the laffe

And with the more he maketh his taffe,
Wherof his hous is full withinne.

He recheth nought be fo he winne,
Though that there lefe ten or twelve.
His love is all toward him felve
And to none other but he se,
That he may winne fuche thre.

For where he shall ought yive or lene,
He woll ayeinward take a bene,
There he hath lent the smalle pese.
And right so there ben many of these
Lovers, that though they love a lite,
That scarfly wolde it weie a mite,
Yet wol they have a pound ayein,
As doth ufure in his bargain.
But certes fuch ufure unliche
It falleth more unto the riche
Als well of love as of beyete,
Than unto hem, that ben nought grete.
And as who faith ben fimple and pouer,
For felden is, whan they recouer,
But if it be through great deferte
And netheles men fe pouerte
With pursuit of contenaunce
Full ofte make a great chevaunce
And take of love his avauntage
Forth with the helpe of his brocage,
That maken seme where it is nought.
And thus full ofte is love bought
For litel what and mochel take
With false weightes that thy make.

Now fone, of that I faide above
Thou woft what usure is of love.
Tell me forthy what so thou wilt,
If thou therof hast any gilt?

My fader nay, for ought I here. For of tho points ye tolden here

Confeffor.

Amans.

I will you by my trouth affure,
My weight of love and my mesure
Hath be more large and more certeine
Than ever I toke of love ayeine.
For fo yet couthe I never of fleighte
To take ayein by double weighte
Of love more than I have yive.
For alfo wis mote I be fhrive
And have remiffion of finne,
As fo yet couth I never winne
Ne yet fo mochel foth to fain,
That ever I might have half ayein
Of fo full love, as I have lent.
And if mine hap were fo well went,
That for the hole I might have half,
Me thenketh I were a goddes half.
For where ufure wold have double,
My confcience is nought fo trouble,
I bidde never as to my dele

But of the hole an halven dele.

That is none excess as me thenketh,
But netheles it me forthenketh.
For well I wot, that wol nought be,
For every day the better I fe,
That how fo ever I yive or lene
My love in place that I mene,
For ought that ever I axe or crave
I can nothing ayeinwarde have.
But yet for that I wol nought lete
What fo befall of my beyete,

That I ne shall her yive and lene

My love and all my thought fo clene,
That toward me shall nought beleve.
And if the of her gode leve
Rewarde wol me nought ayein,
I wot the last of my bargein
Shall ftonde upon fo great a loft,
That I may never more the cost
Recouer in this world till I deie,
So that touchend of this partie
I may me well excuse and shall
And for to speke forth withall,
If any brocour for me went,
That point come never in min entent,
So that the more me merveileth
What thing it is, my lady eileth,
That all min herte and all my time
She hath and do no better byme.

I have herd said, that thought is free And netheles in privete

To you, my fader, that bene here
Min hole fhrifte for to here,

I dare min herte well disclose
Touchend ufurie, as I fuppofe,
Whiche, as ye telle, in love is used.
My lady may nought ben excused,
That for o loking of her
Min hole herte till I deie

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eye

and can

She hath me wonne to her man,

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