I wys I coude tell,[327]—but humlery, home;
I dare not speke, we be so layde awayte,
For all our courte is full of dysceyte.
Now, by saynte Fraunceys, that holy man and frere, 470
I hate these[328] wayes agayne you that they take:
Were I as you, I wolde ryde them full nere;
And, by my trouthe, but yf an ende they make,
Yet wyll I saye some wordes for your sake,
That shall them angre, I holde thereon a grote;
For some shall wene be hanged by the throte.