Maidenhode aungeles peeris

And rathest wole be ripe,

And swete withouten swellyng,

Sour worth it nevere."

I preide Piers tho to pulle a-doun

An appul, and he wolde,

And suffre me to assaien

What savour it hadde.

10950

And Piers caste to the crop,