The abbot told it to me.’
56
‘Nowe and thou lese thy lond,’ sayde Robyn,
‘What woll fall of the?’
‘Hastely I wol me buske,’ sayd the knyght,
‘Ouer the saltë see,
57
‘And se w[h]ere Criste was quyke and dede,
On the mount of Caluerë;
Fare wel, frende, and haue gode day;