[156: T. 5303-5337.]
And seyde, ‘lord, as ye comaunded me
Up peyne of deeth, so have I doon, certein.’
This messager tormented was til he 885
Moste biknowe and tellen, plat and plein,
Fro night to night, in what place he had leyn.
And thus, by wit and subtil enqueringe, (790)
Ymagined was by whom this harm gan springe.
The hand was knowe that the lettre wroot, 890
And al the venim of this cursed dede,
But in what wyse, certeinly I noot.
Theffect is this, that Alla, out of drede,
His moder slow, that men may pleinly rede,
For that she traitour was to hir ligeaunce. 895
Thus endeth olde Donegild with meschaunce.
The sorwe that this Alla, night and day,
Maketh for his wyf and for his child also, (800)
Ther is no tonge that it telle may.
But now wol I un-to Custance go, 900
That fleteth in the see, in peyne and wo,
Fyve yeer and more, as lyked Cristes sonde,
Er that hir ship approched un-to londe.