Note 74 — TINTERNE ABBEY.

“At noon-hour—did no fleshless day betide— On posied trenchers the plain cates were spread, The snow-white egg, the fish’s corned side, Domestic fowl, by barn-door plenty fed, And, best of nutriment, fermented bread; No thirst was theirs but what that juice could pall, The sugar’d ears of bearded barley shed; An aged monk was marshal of the hall, There walking to and fro, the servitours to call.” —Poem quoted.