| 
       This Sowdanesse, whom I thus blame and warye, |  
 | Leet prively hir conseil goon hir way. |  
 | What sholde I in this tale lenger tarie? |  
| 375 | She rydeth to the Sowdan on a day, |  
 | And seyde hym, that she wolde reneye hir lay, |  
 | And cristendom of preestes handes fonge, |  
 | Repentynge hir she hethen was so longe; |   
 | 
 |        Now this sultana whom I blame and harry, |  
 | Let, secretly, her council go their way. |  
 | Why should I longer in my story tarry? |  
| 375 | She rode unto the sultan, on a day, |  
 | And told him she'd renounce her old faith, yea, |  
 | Be christened at priests' hands, with all the throng, |  
 | Repentant she'd been heathen for so long. |   
 |