Behind the cloath the fryer crept,

And into the well on the sudden he leapt;

‘Alas,’ quoth he, ‘I am in the well!’

‘No matter,’ quoth she,’ if thou wert in hell.

11

‘Thou sayst thou couldst sing me out of hell,

Now prithee sing thy self out of the well:’

The fryer sung with a pittiful sound,

Oh help me out, or I shall be dround!

12