And, shortly forth this talë for to chase, I say, that to this newë marchioness God hath such favour sent her of his grace, That it ne seemed not by likeliness That she was born and fed in rudëness⁠— As in a cot, or in an ox’s stall⁠— But nourish’d in an emperorë’s hall.

To every wight she waxen 2516 is so dear And worshipful, that folk where she was born, That from her birthë knew her year by year, Unnethës trowed 2517 they, but durst have sworn, That to Janicol’ of whom I spake before, She was not daughter, for by conjectúre Them thought she was another creatúre.