When all men wer merye and glad,
Anon þe kyng a squyre bade:
"Bryng hym me be-forne,
The pore man þat þe cherys brouȝt."
Line 400
Anon he went and taryd nouȝht,
With-outen any scorne.
He brouȝht cleges be-for þe kyng;
Anon he fell in knelyng,
He wend hys gyft had be lorn.
Line 405
He spake to þe kyng with wordes felle.
He seyd: "Lege lord, what is ȝour wylle?
Y ame ȝour man fre-borne."
"I thanke þe hertely," seyd þe kyng,
"Off þi grete presentyng.
Line 410
That þou hast to me do.
Thow hast honouryd all my feste
With þi deyntes, moste and leste,
And worschyped me all-so.
What þat euer thou wyll haue,
Line 15
Y wyll þe grante, so god me saue,
That þin hert stondes to,
Wheþer it be lond our lede,
Or oþer gode, so god me spede,
How-þat- euer it go."
Line 420
He seyd: "Garemersy, lege kyng!
Thys is to me a hye thing.
ffor sych one as I be.
