ȝa, and alle the wyd werde without mo talys,
Alle this longygh to me.
If thou wylt knele down to the grownde,
And wurchepp me now in this stownde,
Alle this world, that is so rownd,
I xal it gyve to the!
Jhesus. Go a bak, thou fowle Sathanas!
In holy Scrypture wretyn it is,
Thi Lorde God to wurchipp in every plas,
As for his thralle and thou servaunt his.