And sende þe of his sauce to sauoure with þi lippes; And kepe some tyl sopertyme, and sitte nouȝt to longe; 260 Arise vp ar appetit haue eten his fulle. Lat nouȝt Sire Surfait sitten at þi borde.... And ȝif þow diete þe þus, I dar legge myne eres Þat Phisik shal his furred hodes for his fode selle, And his cloke of Calabre, with alle þe knappes of golde, 265 And be fayne, bi my feith, his phisik to lete, And lerne to laboure with londe, for lyflode is swete; For morthereres aren mony leches, Lorde hem amende! Þei do men deye þorw here drynkes, ar Destiné it wolde.' 'By Seynt Poule!' quod Pieres, 'þise aren profitable wordis. 270 Wende now, Hunger, whan þow wolt, þat wel be þow euere, For this is a louely lessoun; Lorde it þe forȝelde!' 'Byhote God,' quod Hunger, 'hennes ne wil I wende, Til I haue dyned bi þis day, and ydronke bothe.' 'I haue no peny,' quod Peres 'poletes forto bigge, 275 Ne neyther gees ne grys, but two grene cheses, A fewe cruddes and creem, and an hauer-cake, And two loues of benes and bran ybake for my fauntis; And ȝet I sey, by my soule, I haue no salt bacoun Ne no kokeney, bi Cryst, coloppes forto maken. 280 Ac I haue percil, and porettes, and many koleplantes, And eke a cow and a kalf, and a cart-mare To drawe afelde my donge þe while þe drought lasteth. And bi þis lyflode we mot lyue til Lammasse tyme; And bi þat I hope to haue heruest in my croft, 285 And þanne may I diȝte þi dyner as me dere liketh.' Alle þe pore peple þo pesecoddes fetten, Benes and baken apples þei brouȝte in her lappes, Chibolles and cheruelles and ripe chiries manye, And profred Peres þis present to plese with Hunger. 290 Al Hunger eet in hast, and axed after more. Þanne pore folke for fere fedde Hunger ȝerne With grene poret and pesen—to poysoun Hunger þei þouȝte. By þat it neighed nere heruest, newe corne cam to chepynge; Þanne was folke fayne, and fedde Hunger with þe best, 295 With good ale, as Glotoun tauȝte, and gerte Hunger go slepe. And þo wolde Wastour nouȝt werche, but wandren aboute, Ne no begger ete bred that benes inne were, But of coket, or clerematyn, or elles of clene whete, Ne none halpeny ale in none wise drynke, 300 But of þe best and of þe brounest þat in borgh is to selle. Laboreres þat haue no lande to lyue on but her handes, Deyned nouȝt to dyne aday nyȝt-olde wortes; May no peny-ale hem paye, ne no pece of bakoun, But if it be fresch flesch, other fische, fryed other bake, 305 And that _chaude_ or _plus chaud_, for chillyng of here mawe.