lyke an olyfant;
It was a bullyfant, 520
A gredy cormerant.
Another brought her garlyke hedes;[530]
Another brought her bedes
Of iet or of cole,
To offer to the ale pole:
Some brought a wymble,
Some brought a thymble,
Some brought a sylke lace,
Some brought a pyncase,
Some her husbandes gowne, 530
Some a pyllow of downe,
Some of[531] the napery;
And all this shyfte they make
For the good ale sake.
A strawe, sayde Bele, stande vtter,
For we haue egges and butter,
And of[532] pygeons a payre.
Than sterte forth a fysgygge,[533]
And she brought a bore pygge;
The fleshe therof was ranke, 540
And her brethe strongly stanke,
Yet, or she went, she dranke,
And gat her great thanke
Of Elynour for her ware,
That she thyther bare
To pay for her share.
Now truly, to my thynkynge,
This is a solempne drinkynge.
Septimus passus.
Soft, quod one, hyght[534] Sybbyll,
And let me wyth you bybyll. 550
She sat downe in the place,
With a sory face
Wheywormed about;
Garnyshed was her snout
Wyth here and there a puscull,
Lyke a scabbyd muscull.
This ale, sayde she, is noppy;
Let vs syppe and soppy,
And not spyll a droppy,
For so mote I hoppy, 560
It coleth well my croppy.[535]
Dame Elynoure, sayde she,
Haue here is for me,
A cloute of London pynnes;
And wyth that she begynnes
The pot to her plucke,
And dranke a good lucke;
She swynged[536] vp a quarte
At ones for her parte;
Her paunche was so puffed, 570
And so wyth ale stuffed,
Had she not hyed apace,
She had defoyled the place.
Than began the sporte
Amonge that dronken sorte:
Dame Eleynour, sayde they,
Lende here a cocke of hey,
To make all thynge cleane;
Ye wote well what we meane.
But, syr, among all 580
That sat in that hall,
There was a pryckemedenty,
Sat lyke a seynty,
And began to paynty,
As thoughe she would faynty;
She made it as koy
As a lege de moy;[537]
She was not halfe so wyse
As she was peuysshe nyse.
She sayde neuer a worde, 590
But rose from the borde,
And called for our dame,
Elynour by name.
We supposed, I wys,
That she rose to pys;
But the very grounde
Was for to compounde
Wyth Elynour in the spence,
To pay for her expence:
I haue no penny nor grote 600
To pay, sayde she, God wote,
For washyng of my throte;
But my bedes of amber
Bere them to your chamber.
Then Elynour dyd them hyde
Wythin her beddes syde.
But some than sat ryght sad
That nothynge had
There of theyr awne,[538]
Neyther gelt nor pawne; 610
Suche were there menny
That
