He may It fynd In to the holl romans,
Of confeſſione o paſing cercumſtans.
I can It not, I am no confeſſour,
[1440] My wyt haith ewill conſat of that labour,
Quharof I wot I aucht repent me ſore.
The king wich was confeſſit, what is more,
Goith and til his maiſter tellith hee,
[1444] How euery ſyne In to his awn degree
He shew, that mycht occuryng to his mynde.
“Leftest thou aught behind,” quoth the master, “about Ban, king of Albanak, and his disinherited wife?”