"Tell me trouth," sayd Robyn, "So god have parte of the;" "I have no more but ten shillings," sayd the knyght, 155 "So god have parte of me." "Yf thou have no more," sayd Robyn, "I wyll not one peny; And yf thou have nede of ony more, More shall I len the. 160 "Go now forth, Lytell Johan, The trouthe tell thou me; Yf there be no more but ten shillings, Not one peny that I se." Lytell Johan spred downe his mantell, 165 Full fayre upon the grounde, And there he found in the knyghtes cofer But even halfe a pounde. Lytyll Johan let it lye full styll, And went to his mayster full lowe: 170 "What tydynge, Johan?" sayd Robyn: "Syr, the knyght is trewe inough." "Fyll of the best wyne," sayd Robyn, "The knyght shall begynne; Moch wonder thynketh me 175 Thy clothynge is so thynne. "Tell me one worde," sayd Robyn, "And counsell shall it be; I trowe thou were made a knyght of forse,[L179] Or elles of yemanry; 180 "Or elles thou hast ben a sory housband, And leved in stroke and stryfe; An okerer, or elles a lechoure," sayd Robyn, "With wronge hast thou lede thy lyfe." "I am none of them," sayd the knyght, 185 "By god that made me; An hondreth wynter here before, Myne aunsetters knyghtes have be. "But ofte it hath befal, Robyn, A man hath be dysgrate; 190 But god that syteth in heven above May amend his state. "Within two or thre yere, Robyn," he sayd,[L193] "My neyghbores well it kende,[L194] Foure hondreth pounde of good money 195 Full wel than myghte I spende. "Now have I no good," sayd the knyght, "But my chyldren and my wyfe; God hath shapen such an ende, Tyll god may amende my lyfe."[L200] 200 "In what maner," sayd Robyn, "Hast thou lore thy richès?" "For my grete foly," he sayd, "And for my kindenesse. "I had a sone, for soth, Robyn, 205 That sholde have ben my eyre, When he was twenty wynter olde, In felde wolde juste full feyre. "He slewe a knyght of Lancastshyre,[L209] And a squyre bolde; 210 For to save hym in his ryght, My goodes beth sette and solde. "My londes beth set to wedde, Robyn, Untyll a certayne daye, To a ryche abbot here besyde, 215 Of Saynt Mary abbay." "What is the somme?" sayd Robyn, "Trouthe than tell thou me;" "Syr," he sayd, "foure hondred pounde, The abbot tolde it to me." 220