And on a day befell, that in that hour When that his meatë wont was to be brought, The jailor shut the doorës of the tow’r; He heard it right well, but he spakë nought. And in his heart anon there fell a thought, That they for hunger wouldë do him dien; 4224 “Alas!” quoth he, “alas that I was wrought!” 4225 Therewith the tearës fellë from his eyen.

His youngest son, that three years was of age, Unto him said, “Father, why do ye weep? When will the jailor bringen our pottáge? Is there no morsel bread that ye do keep? I am so hungry, that I may not sleep. Now wouldë God that I might sleepen ever! Then should not hunger in my wombë creep; There is no thing, save bread, that one were lever.” 4226