‘Why, what dost thou thinke of me?’ quoth our king merrily,
‘Passing thy iudgment vpon me soe breefe.’
‘Good faith,’ quoth the miller, ‘I meane not to flatter thee,
I gesse thee to bee some gentleman-theefe;
Stand thee backe in the darke! light not adowne,
Lest I presentlye cracke thy knaues cro[wn]e!’
5
‘Thou doest abuse me much,’ quoth our king, ‘saying thus;
I am a gentleman, and lodging doe lacke.’
‘Thou hast not,’ quoth the miller, ‘a groat in thy pursse;