"Now so god [me] helpe," sayd Lytel Johan,
"And be my trewe lewtè,
I shall be the worste servaunte to hym
That ever yet had he."
It befell upon a Wednesday,45
The sheryfe on hontynge was gone,
And Lytel Johan lay in his bed,
And was foryete at home.
Therfore he was fastynge
Tyl it was past the none;50
"Good syr stuard, I pray the,
Geve me to dyne," sayd Lytel Johan.
"It is to long for Grenelefe,
Fastynge so long to be;
Therfore I pray the, stuarde,55
My dyner gyve thou me."
"Shalt thou never ete ne drynke," said the stuarde,
"Tyll my lord be come to towne;"
"I make myn avowe to god," sayd Lytell Johan,
"I had lever to cracke thy crowne."60
The butler was full uncurteys,
There he stode on flore;
He sterte to the buttery,
And shet fast the dore.
Lytell Johan gave the buteler such a rap,65
His backe yede nygh on two;
Tho he lyved an hundreth wynter,
The wors he sholde go.
He sporned the dore with his fote,
[It went up wel and fyne],70
And there he made a large lyveray
Both of ale and wyne.
"Syth ye wyl not dyne," sayd Lytel Johan,
"I shall gyve you to drynke,
And though ye lyve an hondred wynter,75
On Lytell Johan ye shall thynk."
Lytell Johan ete, and Lytell [Johan] dronke,
The whyle that he wolde;
The sheryfe had in hys kechyn a coke,
A stoute man and a bolde.80