This kynge was comliche clade in kirtill and mantill,
Bery-brown was the bleaunt brouderde with fewlys,
Fawkons of fyne golde flakerande with wynges
And ichone bare in ble blewe als me thoghte
A grete gartare of ynde gerede full riche.
Full gayly was that grete lorde girde in the myddis
A brighte belte of ble broudirde with fewles
With drakes and with dukkes daderande am semede
For ferdnes of fawkons fete lesse fawked ay were.
(Vv. 90-98)
I hatt Wynnere, a wy that alle this werlde helpis
For I lordes cane lere thurgh ledyng of witt.
Thoo at spedfully will spare and spende not to grete,
Lyve appon littill-whattes I lufe hym the bettir.
Witt wiendes me with and wysses me faire,
Aye when gadir my gudes than glades myn hert
Bot this felle false thefe at byfore owe standes
Thynkes to strike or he styntt and stroye me for euer.
Alle at I wynn thurgh witt he wastes thurgh pryde.
I gedir, I glene and he lattys goo sone,
I pryke and I pryne and he the purse opynes.
(Vv. 222-232)
'3ee Wynnere,' quod Wastoure, 'thi wordes are hye
Bot I schall tell the a tale that tene schall the better
When thou haste waltered and went and wakede alle že nyghte,
And iche a wy in this werlde that wonnes the abowte,
And hase werpede thy wyde howses full of wolle sakkes,
The bemys benden at the rofe, siche bakone there hynges,
Stuffed are sterlynges vndere stelen bowndes.
What scholde worthe of that wele if no waste come?
Some rote, some ruste some ratouns fede.
Let be thy cramynge of thi kystes for Cristis lufe of heuen,
Late the peple and the pore hafe parte of thi siluere,
(Vv. 246-256)
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