The king was wonder sory tho,
And thoghte, if that he seide it oute,
Than were he schamed al aboute. 430
With slihe wordes and with felle
He seith, ‘Mi Sone, I schal thee telle,
P. iii. 290
Though that thou be of litel wit,
It is no gret merveile as yit,
Thin age mai it noght suffise:
Bot loke wel thou noght despise