To the Holy Goste my goodes I bequeth
That in this place be set,
To the Father and the Sone
All theves for to let.
And if any theves hither come
My goodes away to fet,
The Holy Goste be them before
And make them for to let;
And make them to abide
Till I againe come;
Thorough the vertu of the Holy Gost,
The Father, and the Sonne.

Now I go my way — tide what may betide!
If any theves hither come, here I shall abide.
I bind you theves
And do you conjure,
So St. Bartelmew bound the Devil
With his bearde so hoare . . . .