The proude sheryf loude gan crye,
And sayd, Thou traytour knyght,
Thou kepeste here the kynges enemye,
Agayne the lawes and ryght.
“Syr, I wyll avowe that I have done,
The dedes that here[182] be dyght,
Upon all the londes that I have,
As I am a trewe knyght.
Wende forthe, syrs, on your waye,
And doth no more to me,