4397 well mine eyen tway, Save you, I heardë never man so sing As did your father in the morrowning. Certes it was of heart all that he sung. And, for to make his voice the morë strong, He would so pain him, 4398 that with both his eyen He mustë wink, so loud he wouldë cryen, And standen on his tiptoes therewithal, And stretchë forth his neckë long and small. And eke he was of such discretión, That there was no man, in no región, That him in song or wisdom mightë pass. I have well read in Dan Burnel the Ass, 4399 Among his verse, how that there was a cock That, for 4400 a priestë’s son gave him a knock Upon his leg, while he was young and nice, 4401 He made him for to lose his benefice.