Every Sunday throwout the yeere,
A noble shall be thy fee :
And every holliday through the yeere,
Changed shall thy garment be,
If thou wilt goe to faire Nottinghàm,
And there remaine with me.”
This curtall fryer had kept Fountaines-dale
Seven long yeeres and more,
There was neither knight, lord, nor earle,
Could make him yeeld before.