Therfore I pray the, stuarde,

My dyner gyve thou me.

Shaly thou never ete ne drynke, sayd 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. {30}

The butler was ful uncurteys,

There he stode on flore,

He sterte to the buttery,

And shet fast the dore.