CLXIV
‘And I thyrtene pence,’ said the Quene,
‘By God, and by my fay;
Come feche thy payment when thou wylt,
No man shall say the nay.
CLXV
‘Wyllyam, I make the a gentleman
Of clothyng, and of fe:
And thy brethren yemen of my chambre,
For they are so semely to se.
CLXVI
‘Your sonne, for he is tendre of age,
Of my wyne-seller he shall be;
And when he commeth to mans estate,
Better avaunced shall he be.
CLXVII
‘And, Wyllyam, bring me your wife,’ said the Quene,
‘Me longeth her sore to se:
She shall be my chefe gentlewoman,
To governe my nurserye.’
CLXVIII
The yemen thanked them all courteously,
And sayd, ‘To Rome wyl we wend,
Of all the synnes, that we have done,
To be assoyld at his hand.’