+ As a kynge of Englande hunted on a tyme in the countie of Kent, he
hapte to come rydynge to a great gate, wherby stode a husbande man of
the countrey, to whom the kynge sayde: good felowe, putte open the gate.
The man perceyuynge it was the kynge, sayde: no, and please your grace,
I am nat worthy; but I wyll go fetche Mayster Couper, that dwelleth nat
past ij myles hense, and he shal open to you the gate.
+ _Of mayster Uauasour and Turpin his man._ liiii.
+ Mayster Vauasour,[230] sometyme a iudge of Englande, hadde a seruaunt
with hym called Turpin, whiche had done hym seruyce many yeres; wherfore
he came vnto his mayster on a tyme, and sayde to hym on this wyse: syr,
I haue done you seruice longe; wherfore I pray you gyue me somwhat to
helpe me in myn old age. Turpin, quod he, thou sayst trouthe, and
hereon I haue thought many a tyme; I wyll tell the, what thou shalt do.
Nowe shortly I must ride vp to London; and, if thou wilt beare my costis
thether, I wyll surely gyue the suche a thing, that shall be worth to
the an hundred pounde. I am contente, quod Turpin. So all the waye as he
rode Turpin payd his costis, tyll they came to theyr last lodginge: and
there after souper he cam to his mayster and sayde: sir, I haue born
your costes hitherto, as ye badde me; nowe, I pray you let me se, what
thynge hit is, that shulde be worthe an hundred pounde to me. Dyd I
promise the suche a thynge, quod his mayster? ye, forsoth, quod Turpin.
Shewe me thy wrytinge, quod maister Vauasour. I haue none, sayde Turpin.
Than thou arte lyke to haue nothinge, sayde his maister. And lerne this
at me.[231] Whan sa euer thou makest a bargayne with a man, loke that
thou take sure wrytynge, and be well ware howe thou makest a writynge to
any man. This poynte hath vayled[232] me an hundred pounde in my dayes:
and so hit may the. Whan Turpin sawe there was none other remedy, he
helde him selfe contente. On the morowe Turpin taryed a lytelle behynde
his mayster to reken with the hostes, where they laye, and of her he
borowed so moche money on his maysters skarlet cloke, as drewe to[233]
all the costes that they spente by the waye. Mayster Vauasour had nat
ryden past ii myle but that it began to rayne; wherfore he calledde for
his cloke.--His other seruauntes saide, Turpin was behinde, and had hit
with him. So they houedde[234] vnder a tre, tylle Turpin ouer toke them.
Whan he was come, Mayster Vauasour all angerly sayde: thou knaue, why
comest thou nat aweye with my cloke? Syr, and please you, quod Turpin, I
haue layde hit to gage[235] for your costes al the waye. Why, knaue,
quod his mayster, diddiste thou nat promyse to beare my charges to
London? Dyd I, quod Turpin? ye, quod his mayster, that thou diddest. Let
se, shew me your wriytinge therof, quod Turpin; wherto his mayster, I
thinke, answered but lytell.
FOOTNOTES:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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