Myght I a fyn red moorish skynne on thi returne demande?”
“Richt willyngley,” sayde my Cid, “sych gifts I gladly offer,
Shoulde I perchaunce forget itte, youe must count it on the coffer.”
In the middle of the hall they stretch’d a carpet fringed and rare,
And a shete of fyn bleached linen was also laid out ther.
In a single lot of silver thre hundrith markes they payed;
Brave Antolinez counted them but did not have hem weyed.
Thre hundrith more he toke in gold, and then bespake the two:
“O Rachel and thow Vidas, mickle gain I’ve brought to you,
And in soth I’ve earned your thanks gif not a pair of breeches toe.”