Ay, beshrew you! by my fay, These wanton clerks be nice alway! Avaunt, avaunt, my popinjay! What, will ye do nothing but play? Tilly vally, straw, let be I say! Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of the Vale! With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale. By God, ye be a pretty pode, And I love you an whole cart-load. Straw, James Foder, ye play the fode, I am no hackney for your rod: Go watch a bull, your back is broad! Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of Vale! With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale. Ywis ye deal uncourteously; What, would ye deal frumple me? now fy! What, and ye shall be my pigesnye? By Christ, ye shall not, no hardely: I will not be japed bodily! Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of the Vale! With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale. Walk forth your way, ye cost me nought; Now have I found that I have sought: The best cheap flesh that ever I bought. Yet, for his love that all hath wrought, Wed me, or else I die for thought. Gup, Christian Clout, your breath is stale! Go, Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale! Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of the Vale! With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale. |