To see thee fight, to see thee foin, to see thee traverse, to see thee here, to see thee there, to see thee pass thy puncto, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance, thy montant.

With that cam his moder the quene of Orkeney dame Morgause / And whan she sawe syr Gareth redely in the vysage she myghte not wepe but sodenly felle doun in a swoune / and lay there a grete whyle lyke as she had ben dede / And thenne syr Gareth recomforted his moder in suche wyse that she recouerd and made good chere

“I will stay now, if you bid me,” she replied, as low. “See, I am going to my mother, who longs for me as I for her. I will not go unless you let me.”

His text message was filled with fruity language.