It was a king bi are-dawes

That in his time were gode lawes

He dede maken an ful wel holden.

Hym louede yung, him louede holde –

Erl and barun, dreng and þayn,

Knict, bondeman, and swain,

Wydues, maydnes, prestes, and clerkes,

And al for hise gode werkes.

He louede God with al his micth,

And Holi Kirke, and soth and ricth.

Ricthwise men he louede alle,

And oueral made hem for to calle.

Wreieres and wrobberes made he falle,

And hated hem so man doth galle;

Vtlawes and theues made he bynde,

Alle that he micthe fynde,

And heye hengen on galwe-tre –

For hem ne yede gold ne fe.

Jn þat time a man þat bore

… …

Of red gold upon hijs bac,

Jn a male with or blac,

Ne funde he non þat him misseyde

N[e] with iuele on hond leyde.

Þanne micthe chapmen fare

Þuruth Englond wit here ware,

And baldelike beye and sellen

Oueral þer he wilen dwellen […]

Þanne was Engelond at hayse –

Michel was svich a king to preyse

Þat held so Englond in grith!

Þei a man bar an hundred pounde,

Opon him, of gold y-grounde,

Þe[r] nas man in al þis londe

Þat durst him do schame no schonde,

Þat bereft him worþ of a slo,