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,