Maugrè who-so-ever it gruche;
And twyës on the day woll singe;
Goddes prestes nere none suche!
He mot on hunting with dogge and bic[c]he,
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And blowen his horn, and cryën "hey!"
And sorcery usen as a wicche;
Such kepen yvell Peters key.
Yet they mot have som stocke or stoon
Gayly paynted, and proudly dight,