Together have these three their trothë plight To live and die each one of them for other As though he were his owen boren 3608 brother. And up they start, all drunken, in this rage, And forth they go towárdës that villáge Of which the taverner had spoke beforn, And many a grisly 3609 oathë have they sworn, And Christë’s blessed body they to-rent; 3610 “Death shall be dead, if that we may him hent.” 3611 When they had gone not fully half a mile, Right as they would have trodden o’er a stile, An old man and a poorë with them met. This oldë man full meekëly them gret, 3612 And saidë thus; “Now, lordës, God you see!” 3613 The proudest of these riotoúrës three Answér’d again; “What? churl, with sorry grace,