| 75 |
The thridde day, this marchant up ariseth, |
| And on his nedes sadly hym avyseth, |
| And up into his contour-hous gooth he |
| To rekene with hymself, wel may be, |
| Of thilke yeer how that it with hym stood, |
| 80 | And how that he despended hadde his good, |
| And if that he encresses were or noon. |
| His bookes and his bagges many oon |
| He leith biforn hym on his countyng-bord. |
| Ful riche was his tresor and his hord, |
| 85 | For whiche ful faste his contour-dore he shette; |
| And eek he nolde that no man sholde hym lette |
| Of his acountes, for the meene tyme; |
| And thus he sit til it was passe pryme. |
|
| 75 |
Upon the third day this good trader rises, |
| And on his needs discreetly he advises; |
| And up into his counting-house goes he |
| To reckon up his books, as well may be, |
| For the past year, to learn how matters stood |
| 80 | And what he'd spent, and whether it were good, |
| And whether he were wealthier than before. |
| His books and bags, all that he had in store, |
| He put before him on his counting-board; |
| He was right rich in goods and rich in hoard, |
| 85 | For the which cause he bolted fast his door; |
| He'd have no one disturb him while before |
| Him stood his books and monies at that time; |
| And thus he sat till it was well past prime. |
|
