Would do for me aught, although I should die;
Which seeing, I gat me out of the door,
When Flemings began on me for to cry,
‘Master, what will you copen[6] or buy?
Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read?
Lay down your silver, and here you may speed.’
Then to Westminster-gate I presently went,
When the sun was at high prime;
Cooks, to me they took good entent,
And proffered me bread, with ale and wine;