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Þan lopen about hem þe Lombars
As wicked coltes out of haras
& Loyers [men] deden also,
& þerfore hem was ful wo.
Anon Tirri aseylden he,
& nomen him (he no miȝt nouȝt fle),
& Herhaud, þat was gode of miȝt,
Þai nomen þer anon riȝt.
Gij vp stirt hastiliche,
& to hem spac wel sternliche:
‘Now þe deuel hong ȝou ichon.
Is þis acord now alle agon?

310

Worþschiped ous haþ þe douk Loer
Wiþ alle þe tresoun þat is her.
No war we acorded bifor þe barnage,
& kist wiþouten vtrage?
Þis has made þe douke Otoun,
Þat is so ful of tresoun.
Alle þis tresoun he haþ bispeke
(God ous of him awreke);
For þurch þe no war it nouȝt,
Bot it were first of him y-þouȝt.’
Þe douk Loer was so wo:
O word no miȝt he speke þo.