human
And I wyll be thy true servaunte, And trewely serve the, 110 Tyl ye have foure hondred pounde Of money good and free.
gpt
By god that dyed on a tree, Get the londe where thou may, 115 For thou getest none of me.
human
God, that was of a mayden borne, Lene us well to spede![L122] For it is good to assay a frende Or that a man have nede.
gpt
Out, he sayd,
human
Thou lyest, then sayd the gentyll knyght,
gpt
Abbot in thy hal; 130 False knyght was I never, By god that made us all.
human
In joustes and in tournement Full ferre than have I be, And put myselfe as ferre in prees As ony that ever I se.
gpt
What wyll ye gyve more, said the justyce,
human
And the knyght shall make a releyse? And elles dare I safly swere Ye holde never your londe in pees.
gpt
Though ye wolde gyve a thousande more, Yet were ye never the nere;[L150] 150 Shall there never be myn eyre, Abbot, justyse, ne frere.