Yea, no good fellowship would he forsake,
Were it in secret a horse for to take;
His stool he kept close in a hollow tree,
That stood from the city a mile, two, or three.
Thus all the day long he begg’d for relief,
And all the night long he played the false thief;
For seven years together this custom kept he,
And no man knew him such a person to be.
There were few graziers went on the way,