But the chefe of your fayre
Myght stande nowe by potters,
And suche as sell trotters:
Pytchars,[212] potshordis,
This shrewdly accordis 910
To be a cupborde[213] for lordys.
My lorde now and syr knyght,
Good euyn and good nyght!
For now, syr Trestram,
Ye must weare bukram,