ch he had more than once
alluded, without obtaining a satisfactory reply:

"Then said the King, 'by God's grace,
Thou wert in a merry place,
To shoot should thou here
When the foresters go to rest,
Sometyme thou might have of the best,
All of the wild deer;
I wold hold it for no scathe,
Though thou hadst bow and arrows baith,
Althoff thou best a Frere.'"

The Hermit, in return, expresses his apprehension that his guest means
to drag him into some confession of offence against the forest laws,
which, being betrayed to the King, might cost him his life. Edward
answers by fresh assurances of secrecy, and again urges on him the
necessity of procuring some venison. The Hermit replies, by once more
insisting on the duties incumbent upon him as a churchman, and continues
to affirm himself free from all such breaches of order:

"Many day I have here been,
And flesh-meat I eat never,
But milk of the kye;
Warm thee well, and go to sleep,
And I will lap thee with my cope,
Softly to lye."

It would seem that the manuscript is here imperfect, for we do not find
the reasons which finally induce the curtal Friar to amend the King's
cheer. But acknowledging his guest to be such a "good fellow" as has
seldom graced his board, the holy man at length produces the best his
cell affords. Two candles are placed on a table, white bread and baked
pasties are displayed by the light, besides choice of venison, both salt
and fresh, from which they select collops. "I might have eaten my bread
dry," said the King, "had I not pressed thee on the score of archery,
but now have I dined like a prince--if we had but drink enow."

This too is afforded by the hospitable anchorite, who dispatches an
assistant to fetch a pot of four gallons from a secret corner near his
bed, and the whole three set in to serious drinking. This amusement
is superintended by the Friar, according to the recurrence of certain
fustian words, to be repeated by every compotator in turn before he
drank--a species of High Jinks, as it were, by which they regulated
their potations, as toasts were given in latter times. The one toper
says "fusty bandias", to which the other is obliged to reply, "strike
pantnere", and the Friar passes many jests on the King's want of memory,
who sometimes forgets the words of action. The night is spent in this
jolly pastime. Before his departure in the morning, the Ki