And speke of hem that in her toures
Hepe up her gold, and faste shette,
And sore theron her herte sette.
They neither love god, ne drede;
They kepe more than it is nede,
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And in her bagges sore it binde,
Out of the sonne, and of the winde;
They putte up more than nede ware,
Whan they seen pore folk forfare,