... Company by night I take

And with all that I may make

Cast hedge and ditch in the lake

Fixed with many a stake.

Though it were never so fast

Asunder it is wraste.

Thus I Jake do recompense

Their naughty slanderous offence[26].

As I am a true speaker,

I am but a Hedge breaker.

How sayest thou Robin Clout?

Is this night well wrought?

Yea, sir without doubt ...

It is as ye do say ...

Methought it but a play

To see the stakes fast stray

Down into the ray

Swimming evermore away,

Sailing toward the castle

Like as they would wrastle

For superiority

Or else for the Mayoralty.

Truth now thou dost say

It was even worth a play

To see the stakes jombling

And in the water tumbling.

And fast away they hied

Lest they should have been spied

And with a boat been followed

And with a serjeant arrested

For to come to the Mayor

In all gudly affair ...

How sayst Tom of Trumpington?

Forsooth sir down to Chesterton[27]

Great store of stakes be gone

Swimming thither one by one.

Glad they have escaped

And not of the baillies attached.

Wherefore they hied them hence

Paying yet no toll pence

Witness Robin with the red nose

And Benet with the blue hose

And Francis few clothes

Ye affirm the same I suppose?

Sir I think that this work

Is as good as to build a kirk

For Cambridge Baillies truly

Give ill example to the country

Their commons likewise for to engrose

And from poor men it to enclose.

How sayest thou Peter Potter?

Is here good hunting of the otter?

By Jesus sir the ditch be yuge (?) down,

Is the best hunting in all the town,

The poor say God bless your heart

For if it continued they should smart

The wives of it also be glad

Which for their cattle little meat had.

Some have but one sealy (?) cow

Where is no hay nor straw in mow

Therefore it is good conscience I ween

To make that common that ever hath been!

Thou Pyrse Plowman by name

How say’st thou by this game?

Sir it is both game and glee

All things well ordered to see

So suddenly altered in a night.

All things yet done is but right.

I wonder at this covetous nation

That scratt and get all out of fashion.

They seem men of no conscience

But only to satisfy covetous pretence

Ever desiring to take money

As greedy of it as bees of honey.

... Hodge I thee commend ...

Because thou art a sturdy knave

Fit to wear anordyn Jacke (?)

And to lift up a wool pack

Wherewith of times my neck doth crack.

And you good friends every chone (sic)

I exhort ye all in one

To pass home right shortly

Lest the bailiffs do you spy

Or else serjeants with burbolts bright

Chance at you to have a flight

Therefore eschew before daylight

For till then they have no might....

Thus do I, Jack of the stile

Now subscribe upon a tile.

“This I do and will do with all my might

For slandering of me yet do I but right

For common to the commons again I restore

Wherever it hath been yet common before.

If again they enclose it never so fast

Again asunder it shall be wrast

They may be ware by that is past

To make it again is but waste.”