and a slyce;
Elynour made the pryce 410
For good ale eche whyt.
Than sterte in mad Kyt,
That had lyttle wyt;
She semed somdele seke,
And brought[518] a peny cheke
To dame Elynour,
For a draught of lycour.
Than Margery Mylkeducke
Her kyrtell she did vptucke
An ynche aboue her kne, 420
Her legges that ye myght se;
But they were sturdy and stubbed,[519]
Myghty pestels and clubbed,
As fayre and as whyte
As the fote of a kyte:
She was somwhat foule,
Crokenecked lyke an oule;
And yet she brought her fees,
A cantell of Essex chese
Was well a fote thycke, 430
Full of maggottes quycke;
It was huge and greate,
And myghty stronge meate
For the deuyll to eate;
It was tart and punyete.
Another sorte of sluttes,
Some brought walnuttes,[520]
Some apples, some peres,
Some brought theyr clyppynge sheres,
Some brought this and that, 440
Some brought I wote nere what,
Some brought theyr husbandes hat,
Some podynges and lynkes,
Some trypes that stynkes.[521]
But of all this thronge
One came them amonge,
She semed halfe a leche,
And began to preche
Of the tewsday in the weke
Whan the mare doth keke; 450
Of the vertue of an vnset leke;
Of her husbandes breke;
Wyth the feders of a quale
She could to Burdeou[522] sayle;
And wyth good ale barme
She could make a charme
To helpe wythall a stytch:
She semed to be a wytch.
Another brought two goslynges,
That were noughty froslynges; 460
She[523] brought them in a wallet,
She was a cumly callet:
The goslenges were untyde;
Elynour began to chyde,
They[524] be wretchockes[525] thou hast brought,
They are shyre shakyng nought!
Sextus passus.
Maude Ruggy thyther skypped:
She was vgly hypped,
And vgly thycke lypped,
Lyke an onyon syded, 470
Lyke tan ledder hyded:
She had her so guyded
Betwene the cup and the wall,
That she was there wythall
Into a palsey fall;
Wyth that her hed shaked,
And her handes quaked:
Ones hed wold haue aked
To se her naked:
She dranke so of the dregges,[526] 480
The dropsy was in her legges;
Her face glystryng lyke glas;
All foggy fat she was;
She had also the gout
In all her ioyntes about;
Her breth was soure and stale,
And smelled all of ale:
Suche a bedfellaw
Wold make one cast his craw;
But yet for all that 490
She dranke on the mash fat.
There came an old rybybe;
She halted of a kybe,
And had broken her shyn
At the threshold comyng in,
And fell so wyde open
That one myght se her token,
The deuyll thereon be wroken!
What nede all this be spoken?
She yelled lyke a calfe:
