Ful well than myght I spende.
50
‘Nowe haue I no gode,’ saide the knyght,
‘God hath shaped such an ende,
But my chyldren and my wyfe,
Tyll God yt may amende.’
51
‘In what maner,’ than sayde Robyn,
‘Hast thou lorne thy rychesse? ’
‘For my greatë foly,’ he sayde,