"Thou art euer in my berde," sayd the abbot, "By god and saynt Rycharde;" With that cam in a fat-heded monke, The heygh selerer. 40 "He is dede or hanged," sayd the monke, "By god that bought me dere, And we shall have to spende in this place Foure hondred pounde by yere." The abbot and the hy selerer, 45 Sterte forthe full bolde, The high justyce of Englonde The abbot there dyde holde. The hye justyce and many mo Had take into their honde 50 Holy all the knyghtes det, To put that knyght to wronge. They demed the knyght wonder sore, The abbot and hys meynè: "But he come this ylke day 55 Dysheryte shall he be." "He wyll not come yet," sayd the justyce, "I dare well undertake;" But in sorowe tyme for them all The knyght came to the gate. 60 Than bespake that gentyll knyght Untyll hys meynè, "Now put on your symple wedes That ye brought fro the see." [They put on their symple wedes,] 65 And came to the gates anone; The porter was redy hymselfe, And welcomed them everychone. "Welcome, syr knyght," sayd the portèr, "My lorde to mete is he, 70 And so is many a gentyll man, For the love of the." The porter swore a full grete othe, "By god that made me, Here be the best coresed hors, 75 That ever yet sawe I me. "Lede them into the stable," he sayd, "That eased might they be:" "They shall not come therin," sayd the knyght, "By god that dyed on a tre." 80 Lordes were to mete isette In that abbotes hall; The knyght went forth and kneled downe, And salued them grete and small. "Do gladly, syr abbot," sayd the knyght, 85 "I am come to holde my day:" The fyrst word the abbot spake, "Hast thou brought my pay?" "Not one peny," sayd the knyght, "By god that maked me;" 90 "Thou art a shrewed dettour," sayd the abbot; "Syr justyce, drynke to me. "What doost thou here," sayd the abbot, "But thou haddest brought thy pay?" "For god," than sayd the knyght, 95 "To pray of a lenger daye." "Thy daye is broke," sayd the justyce, "Londe getest thou none:" "Now, good syr justyce, be my frende, And fende me of my fone." 100 "I am holde with the abbot," sayd the justyce,[L101] "Bothe with cloth and fee:" "Now, good syr sheryf, be my frende:" "Nay for god," sayd he.