þo he was schent and brouht to grounde,
wiþ nayles bored and speres wounde,
Line 192
A strayt couenaunt I-mad þer was
Bi-twene me and Sathanas:
Al my catel to haue away,
þat he me refte with false pray.
Line 196
A ȝein I com, and made a feste
AMong þe leste and þe meste:
A parti þo gunne knowe me,
þat I was mon of gret pouste.
Line 200
þe feeste laste fourti dawes,
To do men knowe my newe lawes;
þat feeste was al of ioye and blis,
þat Esterday ȝit cleped is.
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