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.