“The tree,” quoth she, “the gallows is to mean, And Jupiter betokens snow and rain, And Phoebus, with his towel clear and clean, These be the sunnë’s streamës, 4209 sooth to sayn; Thou shalt y-hangeth be, father, certáin; Rain shall thee wash, and sunnë shall thee dry.” Thus warned him full plat and eke full plain His daughter, which that called was Phaníe.

And hanged was Croesus the proudë king; His royal thronë might him not avail. Tragédy is none other manner thing, Nor can in singing crien nor bewail, But for that Fortune all day will assail With unware stroke the regnës 4210 that be proud: For when men trustë her, then will she fail, And cover her bright facë with a cloud.