And opneth his dore and doun gooth his wey. And aftir blyve out of hir bed they ryse And cam doun eek. Hir fadir thanken they Of his good cheere in hire beste wyse - And al was for the goldes covetyse; And to goon hoom they axen of him leve; They been departed and they there him leve. Walkynge homward, they janglid faste and speek Of the gold which they sy hir fadir have. Oon seide, "I wondre theron;" "And I eek," Quod anothir, "for also God me save, Yistirday, thogh I sholde into my grave Han crept, I durste on it han leid my lyf That gold with him nat hadde be so ryf."