Perdye I saide it not

Perdye I saide it not
Nor never thought to do,
As well as I ye wott,
I have no powre therto:

And if I ded, the lott
That first ded me enchain
Do never slake the knott,
But strayte it to my payne.

And if I ded, eche thing
That maye do harme or woo,
Contynuallye maye wring
My herte wherso I goo;
Reporte may alwayes ring
Of shame of me for aye,
Yf yn my herte ded spring
The worde that ye doo saye.

If I saide so, ech sterre
That is in heven above,
Maye frowne on me to marre
The hope I have yn love;
And if I ded, such warre
As they brought out of Troye,
Bring all my lyff afarre
From all this lust and joye.

And if I ded so say,
The bewtye that me bound
Encresst from daye to daye
More cruell to my wounde;
With all the mone that may,
To playnte may torn my song;
My lif may sone dekay,
Without redresse bye wrong.

Yf I be clere fro thought
Whye do ye then complaine?
Then ys this thing but sought
To tome me to more payne.
Then that that ye have wrought,
Ye must it now redresse,
Of right therefore ye ought,
Such rigor to represse.

And as I have deservid,
So graunte me nowe my hire;
Ye kno I never swervid,
Ye never fownd me lyre,
For Rachell have I servid,
(For Lya carld I never)
And her I have reservid
Within my herte for ever.