And very beggers save onely our tole, B iv
Whiche is ryght smale and yet many grudges
For gryste of a busshell to gyve a quarte bole.[148]
Yet, were not reparacyons, we myght do wele.
Our mylstons, our whele with her kogges, & our trindill[149] 460
Our floodgate, our mylpooll, our water whele,
Our hopper,[150] our extre,[151] our yren spyndyll,
In this and mych more so great is our charge,
That we wolde not recke though no water ware,
Save onely it toucheth eche man so large, 465