noon
I reckoned some mischief was brewing , but , _ purefoy _ ! I guessed not how much . That day died my Lord of Kent , on the scaffold at Winchester . And so beloved was he that from noon till four of the clock they had to wait , for no man would strike him , till at last they persuaded one in the Marshalsea , that had been cast for -LSB- sentenced to -RSB- death , to behead him as the price of his own life . A little after that hour came in Sir Hugh de Turpington , that was Marshal of the Hall to the King . `` Sir , '' saith he to the King , `` I am required of the Sheriff to tell you that my Lord of Kent hath paid wyte on the scaffold . So perish all your enemies ! ''