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And brynges to the euwer that he come fro;
To tho lordys bordes azayn con go;

And layes iiij. trenchours tho lorde before,
The fyft above by good lore;

By hymself thre schalle he dresse,

To cut opon the lordes messe;

Smale towelle aboute his necke shalle bene,
To clens his knyfys that ben so kene.


THE aumenere by this hathe sayde grace,
And tho almes dysshe hase sett in place;
Therin the kerver a lofe schalle sette,
To serve God fyrst withouten lette;
These other lofes he parys aboute,
Lays hit myd dysshe withouten doute.
The smalle lofe he cuttes even in twynne,
Tho over dole in two lays to hym.
The aumenere a rod schalle have in honde,
As office for almes, y undurstonde.
Alle the broken met he kepys y wate,
To dele to pore men at the gate,
And drynke that leves served in halle;
Of ryche and pore bothe grete and smalle.
He is sworne to overse the servis wele,
And dele hit to the pore every dele;
Selver he deles rydand by way;
And his almys-dysshe, as I 30u say,
To the porest man that he can fynde,
Other ellys I wot he is unkynde.







THIS wyle tho squyer to kechyn shalle go,
And brynges a bof for
assay tho;
Tho coke assayes the mete ungryzt,
Tho sewer he takes and kovers on ryzt;
Wosoever he takes that mete to bere,
Schalle not so hardy tho covertoure rere,
ffor colde ne hote, I warne zou alle,
ffor suspecyone of treson as may befalle.
Yf tho sylver dysshe wylle algate brenne,
A sotelté I wylle the kenne,

Take the bredde corvyn and lay bytwene,
And kepe the welle hit be not sene;
I teche hit for no curtayse,

But for thyn ese.

When the sewer comys unto the borde,
Alle the mete he sayes at on bare worde,
The potage fyrst with brede y-corvyn,
Coverys hom agayn lest they ben storvyn;
With fysshe or flessh yf be served,

A morselle therof shalle he be kervyd;
And touche the messe over alle aboute,
The sewer hit etes withouten doute.
With baken mete yf he servyd be tho,
Tho lydes up-rered or he fyr go,
The past or pye he sayes withinne,
Dippes bredde in gravé no more ne mynne;
3if the baken mete be colde, as may byfalle,
A gobet of tho self he sayes withalle.







But thou that berys mete in hande,
Yf tho sewer stonde, loke thou stande;
Yf he knele, knele thou so long for ozt,
Tylle mete be sayde that thou hase broght.
As oft at hegh borde yf brede be nede,
The butler two lovys takys indede;
That on settes down, that other agayn
He barys to cupborde in towelle playn.
As oft as the kerver fettys drynke,
The butler assayes hit how good hym thynke;
In the lordys cupp that levys undrynken,
Into the almes-disshe hit schalle be sonken.
The kerver anon withouten thouzt,
Unkovers the cup that he hase brouzt;
Into the covertoure wyn he powres owt,
Or into a spare pece, withouten doute;
Assayes, an gefes tho lorde to drynke,
Or settes hit doun as hym goode thynke.
Tho kerver schalle kerve tho lordes mete,
Of what kyn pece that he wylle ete;
And on hys trenchour he hit layes,
On thys maner without displayes;
In almes-dysshe he layes yche dele,
That he is with served at tho mele;
But he sende hit to ony strongere,
A pese that is hym leve and dere,
And send hys potage also,
That schalle not to the almes go.
Of kerver more, yf I shulde telle,
Another fytt thenne most I spelle,







Therfore I let hit here over passe,

To make oure talkyng summedelasse.

When the lorde hase eten, tho sewer schalle bryng Tho surnape on his schulder ryng,


A narew towelle, a brode besyde,

And of hys hondes he lettes hit slyde;
The ussher ledes that on hed ryzt,
Tho aumener tho other away shalle dyzt.
When the ussher comys to the borde ende,
Tho narow towelle he strecches unkende;
Before tho lorde and the lady so dere,
Dowbelle he playes tho towelle pere;
Whenne thay have wasshen and grace is sayde,
Away he takes at a brayde;

Awoydes tho borde into tho flore,

Tase away tho trestes that ben so store.





Now speke I wylle a lytulle whyle ง

Of tho chandeler, withouten gyle,

That torches and tortes and preketes con make, 825 Perchours, smale condel, I undertake;

Of wax these candels alle that brennen,

And morter of wax that I wele kenne;

Tho snof of hom dose away

With close sesours, as I 30w say;

The sesours ben schort and rownde y-close,
With plate of irne upon bose;


In chambur no ly3t ther shalle be brent,
Bot of wax therto, yf ze take tent;
In halle at soper schalle caldels brenne
Of Parys, therin that alle men kenne;
Iche messe a candelle fro Alhalawghe day
To Candelmesse, as I zou say;

Of candel liveray squiyers schalle have,
So long, if hit is mon wille krave.

Of brede and ale also the boteler
Schalle make lyveré thurghout the zere
To squyers, and also wyn to knyzt,
Or ellys he dose not his office ryzt.
Here endys the thryd speche,-
Of alle oure synnes Cryst be oure leche,
And bryng us to his vonyng place!
Amen, sayes 3e, for hys grete grace!
Amen, par charité.





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