Hise resons he spak ful solempnely Sownyng alwey thencrees of his wynnyng He woolde the see weere kept for any thyng Bitwix Myddelburgh and Orewelle Wel koude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette So estaatly was he of his gouernaunce With his bargaynes and with his cheuysaunce For soothe he was a worthy man withalle But sooth to seyn I noot how men hym calle A Clerc ther was of Oxenford also That vnto logyk hadde longe ygo As leene was his hors as is a rake And he was noght right fat I vndertake But looked holwe and therto sobrely Ful threedbaare was his ouereste courtepy For he hadde geten hym yet no benefice Ne was so worldly for to haue office From Nl Ne noon othir maner of officeFor hym was leuere haue at his beddes heed Twenty bookes clad in blak or reed Of Aristotle and his philosophye Than robes riche or fithele or gay sautrye But al be that he was a philosophre Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre But al that he myghte of his frendes hente On bookes and on lernynge he it spente From Nl For that was al his besy entent And bisily gan for the soules preye Of hem that yaf hym wherwith to scoleye