There was many a wepynge eye.
162
Thus Clowdesle clefte the apple in two,
That many a man it se;
‘Ouer goddes forbode,’ sayd the kynge,
‘That thou sholdest shote at me!
163
‘I gyue the .xviii. pens a daye,
And my bowe shalte thou bere,
And ouer all the north countree