An Outlaw bold, I quarter hold in a goodly castle free,
Which I wot the Lord, of his own accord, would scarce allow to me.
And I scorn to sleep in the donjon keep; but the room of state is mine,
And I work the beef of the fat old thief, and I tope the old rogue's wine.
For, sooth to say, upon his prey, I banquet as I will,
And hereby ye know that my Lord also doth plunder, fleece, and pill,
He spoils and takes, yet no law breaks, the statute keeps within,
As a man may do the traveller who doth shear to the very skin.
The lion's feed, through his own greed, the little jackal supplies,
So I make my boot of another's fruit, and feast on another's prize.