A MARCHANT was ther with a forked berd,
   There was a MERCHANT with forked beard

In mottelee, and hye on horse he sat;
In motley gown, and high on horse he sat,

Upon his heed a Flaundryssh bever hat,
Upon his head a Flemish beaver hat;

His bootes clasped faire and fetisly.
His boots were fastened neatly and elegantly.

His resons he spak ful solempnely,
He spoke out his opinions very solemnly,

Sownynge alway th'encrees of his wynnyng.
Stressing the times when he had won, not lost.

He wolde the see were kept for any thing
He wanted the sea were guarded at any cost

Bitwixe Middelburgh and Orewelle.
Between Middleburgh and the town of Orwel.

Wel koude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle.
He knew how to deal foreign currencies, buy and sell.

This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette;
This worthy man kept all his wits well set;

Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette,
There was no person that knew he was in debt,

So estatly was he of his governance
So well he managed all his trade affairs

With his bargaynes and with his chevyssaunce.
With bargains and with borrowings and with shares.

For sothe, he was a worthy man with-alle,
Indeed, he was a worthy man withall,

But, sooth to seyn, I noot how men hym calle.
But, to tell the truth, his name I can't recall.	
	     

 =Brian Ó Broin