And to my sacramente pursewe,
Mi dede, my rysing, rede be rawe,
Who will noght trowe, þei are noght trewe,
Vnto my dome I schall þame drawe,
And iuge þame worse þanne any Iewe. 320
And all þat likis to leere
My lawe, and leue þerbye,
Shall neuere haue harmes heere,
But welthe, as is worthy.