Some haue no mony 160 That thyder commy, For theyr ale to pay, That is a shreud aray; Elynour swered, Nay, Ye shall not beare away My[496] ale for nought, By hym that me bought! With, Hey, dogge, hay, Haue these hogges[497] away! With, Get me a staffe, 170 The swyne eate my draffe! Stryke the hogges with a clubbe, They haue dronke vp my swyllynge tubbe! For, be there neuer so much prese, These swyne go to the hye dese, The sowe with her pygges; The bore his tayle wrygges, His rumpe[498] also he frygges Agaynst[499] the hye benche! With, Fo, ther is a stenche! 180 Gather vp, thou wenche; Seest thou not what is fall? Take vp dyrt[500] and all, And bere out of the hall: God gyue it yll preuynge, Clenly as yuell cheuynge! But let vs turne playne, There we lefte agayne. For, as yll a patch as that, The hennes ron in the mashfat; 190 For they go to roust Streyght ouer the ale ioust, And donge, whan it commes, In the ale tunnes. Than Elynour taketh The mashe bolle, and shaketh The hennes donge away, And skommeth it into[501] a tray Whereas the yeest is, With her maungy fystis: 200 And somtyme she blennes The donge of her hennes And the ale together; And sayeth, Gossyp, come hyther, This ale shal be thycker, And flowre the more quicker; For I may tell you, I lerned it of a Jewe, Whan I began to brewe, And I haue founde it trew; 210 Drinke now whyle it is new; And ye may it broke, It shall make you loke Yonger than ye be Yeres two or thre, For ye may proue it by me; Beholde, she sayde, and se How bryght I am of ble! Ich am not cast away, That can my husband say, 220 Whan we kys and play In lust and in lykyng; He calleth me his whytyng, His mullyng and his mytyng,[502] His nobbes and his conny, His swetyng and his honny, With, Bas, my prety bonny, Thou art worth good and monny. This make I my falyre fonny,[503] Til that he dreme and dronny; 230 For, after all our sport, Than wyll he rout and snort; Than swetely together we ly, As two pygges in a sty. To cease me semeth best, And of this tale to rest, And for to leue this letter, Because it is no better, And because it is no swetter; We wyll no farther ryme 240 Of it at this tyme; But we wyll turne playne Where we left agayne. _Tertius passus._