Right as thay wolde han torned over a style, turned Whan thai han goon nought fully half a myle, An old man and a pore with hem mette. This olde man ful mekely hem grette,[179] meekly, greeted And saide thus, Lordynges, God yow se! God see you The proudest of these ryotoures thre rioters Answerd ayein, What, carle, with sory grace, churl Why artow al for-wrapped save thi face?[180]-- wrapped up Why lyvest thou longe in so great an age? This olde man gan loke on his visage, began, look And saide thus: For that I can not fynde because A man--though that I walke into Inde-- Neither in cité noon, ne in village, That wol chaunge his youthe for myn age; And therfore moot I have myn age stille As longe tyme as it is Goddes wille, Ne Deth, allas! ne wil not have my lif, Thus walk I lik a resteles caytif,[181] And on the ground, which is my modres gate, I knokke with my staf, erly and late, And saye, Leeve moder, let me in. dear Lo, how I wane, fleisch, and blood, and skyn-- Allas, whan schuln my boones ben at rest? shall, bones Moder, with yow wil I chaunge my chest, That in my chamber longe tyme hath be, Ye, for an haire clout[182] to wrap-in me. enwrap But, yet to me sche wol not do that grace, favour For which ful pale and welkid is my face. withered But sires, to yow it is no curtesye To speke unto an old man vilonye, But he trespas in word or elles in dede. unless, else In holy writ ye may yourself wel rede, read Ayens an old man, hoor upon his hede, in presence of Ye schold arise: wherefor I you rede exhort Ne doth unto an old man more harm now, do not Namore than ye wolde men dede to yow In age, if that ye may so long abyde. live so long And God be with you, wherso ye go or ryde! walk I moot go thider as I have to goo. thither Nay, olde cherl, by God thou shalt not so, Sayde that other hasardour anoon, Thou partist nought so lightly, by seint Johan! departest, easily Thou spak right now of thilke traitour Deth, That in this contré alle our frendes sleth; Have her my trouth, as thou art his aspye; here Tel wher he is, or elles thou schalt dye.[183] Just as they were about to cross a stile, When they had gone not fully half a mile, A poor and aged man did meet them there. This old man greeted them with civil air, And said, “Good day, my lords, God look on ye.” Then the most arrogant of the noisy three Answered him thus--“What, churl, with sorry grace, Why art thou all wrapped up except thy face? Why livest thou so long, and art so grey?”