The friar answér’d, “O Thomas, dost thou so? What needest thou diversë friars to seech? 2327 What needeth him that hath a perfect leech, To seeken other leeches in the town? Your inconstánce is your confusioún. Hold ye then me, or ellës our convént, To prayë for you insufficiént? Thomas, that jape 2328 it is not worth a mite; Your malady is for we have too lite. 2329 Ah, give that convent half a quarter oats; And give that convent four and twenty groats; And give that friar a penny, and let him go! Nay, nay, Thomas, it may no thing be so. What is a farthing worth parted on twelve? Lo, each thing that is oned 2330 in himselve Is morë strong than when it is y-scatter’d. Thomas, of me thou shalt not be y-flatter’d, Thou wouldest have our labour all for nought.