4 Her breast, her milk, her very gown That she did wear in Bethlehem town, When in the inn she lay; Yet all the world knows that's a fable, For so good clothes ne'er lay in stable, Upon a lock of hay. 5 No carpenter could by his trade Gain so much coin as to have made A gown of so rich stuff; Yet they, poor souls, think, for their credit, That they believe old Joseph did it, 'Cause he deserved enough. 6 There is one of the cross's nails, Which whoso sees, his bonnet vails, And, if he will, may kneel; Some say 'twas false,'twas never so, Yet, feeling it, thus much I know, It is as true as steel. 7 There is a Ianthorn which the Jews, When Judas led them forth, did use, It weighs my weight downright; But to believe it, you must think The Jews did put a candle in 't, And then 'twas very light. 8 There's one saint there hath lost his nose, Another's head, but not his toes, His elbow and his thumb; But when that we had seen the rags, We went to th' inn and took our nags, And so away did come. 9 We came to Paris, on the Seine, 'Tis wondrous fair,'tis nothing clean, 'Tis Europe's greatest town; How strong it is I need not tell it, For all the world may easily smell it, That walk it up and down. 10 There many strange things are to see, The palace and great gallery, The Place Royal doth excel, The New Bridge, and the statutes there, At Notre Dame St Q. Pater, The steeple bears the bell. 11 For learning the University, And for old clothes the Frippery, The house the queen did build. St Innocence, whose earth devours Dead corps in four-and-twenty hours, And there the king was kill'd. 12 The Bastille and St Denis Street, The Shafflenist like London Fleet, The Arsenal no toy; But if you'll see the prettiest thing, Go to the court and see the king-- Oh, 'tis a hopeful boy! 13 He is, of all his dukes and peers, Reverenced for much wit at's years, Nor must you think it much; For he with little switch doth play, And make fine dirty pies of clay, Oh, never king made such! 14 A bird that can but kill a fly, Or prate, doth please his majesty, Tis known to every one; The Duke of Guise gave him a parrot, And he had twenty cannons for it, For his new galleon. 15 Oh that I e'er might have the hap To get the bird which in the map Is call'd the Indian ruck! I'd give it him, and hope to be As rich as Guise or Livine, Or else I had ill-luck. 16 Birds round about his chamber stand, And he them feeds with his own hand, 'Tis his humility; And if they do want anything, They need but whistle for their king, And he comes presently.