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.