LXXII.
Of ſtranger gueſt; Go, bid him welcome here;
What ſeeks he there? quoth he. Perdie, what would
You ſeek? ſays to the Boy the meſſenger.
To ſee the Knight, quoth he, I but requere.
Syr Knight, he ſcornes to come; the ſervant ſaid.
Go, bid him ſtill, quoth he, to welcome cheer:
But all contrarywiſe the faytor made,
Till rage enflamd the Boy; and ſtill his rage they fed:
LXXIII.
His faire eſtate; and certes, well I read,
He weens to hold your patrimonie faſt.
Next morne a lawyer beene ybrought with ſpeed,
And wiſe he lookt, and wiſely shook his hede.
Him now impowrd, the youth with rage yblent
Vows never to retourne; then mounts his ſteed,
And leaves the place in fancy hugely ſhent:
All which to Kathrins mind gave wondrous great content.
