Be the luef, be the loht, sire Edward,
Thou shalt ride sporeles o thy lyard
Al the ryhte way to Dovere ward;
Shalt thou never more breke fore-ward,
ant that reweth sore:
Edward, thou dudest ase a shreward,
forsoke thyn emes lore.
Richard, etc.
Translation.—Sit all still and listen to me:—the King of Almaigne, by my loyalty,—thirty thousand pound he asked—to make peace in the country,—and so he did more.—Richard, though thou art ever a traitor,—thou shalt never more deceive.
Richard of Almaigne, while he was king,—he spent all his treasure upon luxury;—have he not of Wallingford one furlong:—let him have, as he brews, evil to drink,—in spite of Windsor.