And he in derke mete
With robbours and with revers
That riche men despoilen,
Ther the messager is ay murye,
Hus mouthe ful of songes,
And leyveth for hus letters
That no wight wol hym greve.
Ac yut myghte the marchaunt
Thorgh monye and other yeftes
Have hors and hardy men,