Bot here you lakked a lyttel, sir, & lewte yow wonted,
Bot þat wat3 for no wylyde werke, ne wowyng nauþer,
Bot for 3e lufed your lyf, þe lasse I yow blame."
Þat oþer stif mon in study stod a gret whyle;
So agreued for greme he gryed with-inne,
Alle þe blode of his brest blende in his face,
Þat al he schrank for schome, þat þe schalk talked.
Þe forme worde vpon folde, þat þe freke meled,—
"Corsed worth cowarddyse & couetyse boþe!
In yow is vylany & vyse, þat vertue disstrye3."