Sir Richard's humility was gone; his voice was clear and proud; the
churchmen trembled, here was a new tone. Turning to a table, the knight
took a bag from under his cloak, and shook out of it on to the board a
ringing heap of gold.

"Here is the gold you lent me, Sir Abbot," he cried. "Count it. You will
find it four hundred pounds to the penny. Had you been courteous, I
would have been generous. As it is, I pay not a penny over my due."


"The abbot sat styll, and ete no more
For all his ryall chere;
He cast his head on his sholder,
And fast began to stare."


So ended this affair, the abbot in despair, the knight in triumph, the
justice laughing at his late friends and curtly refusing to return the
cash they had paid to bring him there. His money counted, his release
signed, the knight was a glad man again.


"The knight stert out of the dore,
Awaye was all his care,
And on he put his good clothynge,
The other he lefte there.

"He wente hym forthe full mery syngynge,
As men have tolde in tale,
His lady met hym at the gate,