Some for very nede Layde[508] downe a skeyne of threde, 310 And some a skeyne of yarne; Some brought[509] from the barne Both benes and pease; Small chaffer doth ease Sometyme, now and than: Another there was that ran With a good brasse pan; Her colour was full wan; She ran in all the hast Vnbrased and vnlast; 320 Tawny, swart, and sallowe,[510] Lyke a cake of tallowe; I swere by all hallow, It was a stale[511] to take The deuyll in a brake. And than came haltyng Jone, And brought a gambone Of bakon that was resty: But, Lorde, as she was testy, Angry as a waspy! 330 She began to yane and gaspy, And bad Elynour go bet, And fyll in good met;[512] It was dere that was farre fet. Another brought a spycke Of a bacon flycke; Her tonge was verye quycke, But she spake somwhat thycke: Her felow did stammer and stut, But she was a foule slut, 340 For her mouth fomyd And her bely groned: Jone sayne[513] she had eaten a fyest; By Christ, sayde she, thou lyest, I haue as swete a breth As thou, wyth shamfull deth! Than Elynour sayde, Ye callettes, I shall breake your palettes, Wythout ye now cease! And so was made the peace.[514] 350 Than thyder came dronken Ales; And she was full of tales, Of tydynges in Wales, And of sainct James in Gales, And of the Portyngales; Wyth, Lo, gossyp, I wys, Thus and thus it is, There hath ben great war Betwene Temple Bar And the Crosse in Chepe, 360 And there came an hepe Of mylstones in a route: She speketh thus in her snout, Sneuelyng in her nose, As thoughe she had the pose; Lo, here is an olde typpet, And ye wyll gyue me a syppet Of your stale ale, God sende you good sale! And as she was drynkynge, 370 She fyll[515] in a wynkynge Wyth a barlyhood, She pyst where she stood; Than began she to wepe, And forthwyth fell on slepe. Elynour toke her vp, And blessed her wyth a cup Of newe ale in cornes; Ales founde therin no thornes, But supped it vp at ones, 380 She founde therin no bones.[516] _Quintus passus._