Of helpe I wolde yow pray.
With me thei lefte alle their thyng,
That I am sicur of theire comyng,
And that me rewes sore.
I have fayre chamburs thre;
But non of them may be with me
While that thei be thore.
Into my cart-hows thei me dryfe;
Out at the dur thei put my wyfe,
For she is olde gray-hare.”