|
"Nay, olde cherl, by God, thou shalt nat so," |
| 465 | Seyde this oother hasardour anon; |
| "Thou partest nat so lightly, by Seint John! |
| Thou spak right now of thilke traytour Deeth, |
| That in this contree alle oure freendes sleeth. |
| Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his espye, |
| 470 | Telle where he is, or thou shalt it abye, |
| By God and by the hooly sacrament! |
| For soothly thou art oon of his assent |
| To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef?" |
|
|
"Nay, ancient churl, by God it sha'n't be so," |
| 465 | Cried out this other hazarder, anon; |
| "You sha'n't depart so easily, by Saint John! |
| You spoke just now of that same traitor Death, |
| Who in this country stops our good friends' breath. |
| Hear my true word, since you are his own spy, |
| 470 | Tell where he is or you shall rue it, aye |
| By God and by the holy Sacrament! |
| Indeed you must be, with this Death, intent |
| To slay all us young people, you false thief." |
|
