Classic Poem

FIT THE SECOND

Some have no money
That thither com─ù
For their ale to pay.
That is a shrewd array!
Elinour sweared, " Nay,
Ye shall not bear away
My ale for nought,
By Him that me bought!"
With " Hey, dog, hey!
Have these hogs away!"
With " Get me a staff,
The swine eat my draff!
Strike the hogs with a club,
They have drunk up my swilling-tub!"
For, be there never so much press,
These swine go to the high dais,
The sow with her pigs,
The boar his tail wrigs,
His rump also he frigs
Against the high bench!
With, " Fo, there 's a stench!
Gather up, thou wench;
Seest thou not what is fall?
Take up dirt and all,
And bear out of the hall:
God give it ill-preving,
Cleanly as evil 'chieving!"

But let us turn plain,
There we left again.
For, as ill a patch as that,
The hens run in the mash-vat;
For they go to roost
Straight over the ale-joust,
And dung, when it com─ùs,
In the ale-tunn─ùs.
Then Elinour taketh
The mash-bowl, and shaketh
The hens' dung away,
And skimmeth it into a tray
Whereas the yeast is,
With her mangy fist─ùs:
And sometime she blens
The dung of her hens
And the ale together,
And sayeth, " Gossip, come hither,
This ale shall be thicker,
And flower the more quicker;
For I may tell you
I learned it of a Jew
When I began to brew,
And I have found it true.
Drink now while it is new:
An ye may it brook,
It shall make you look
Younger than ye be
Year─ùs two or three,
For ye may prove it by me.
Behold," she said, " and see
How bright I am of ble!
Ich am not cast away,
That can my husband say,
When we kiss and play
In lust and in liking;
He calleth me his whiting,
His mulling and his miting,
His nobb─ùs and his coney,
His sweeting and his honey,
With " Buss, my pretty bonny,
Thou art worth goods and money! "
Thus make I my fellow fonny,
Till that he dream and drony;
For, after all our sport,
Then will he rout and snort:
Then sweetly together we lie
As two pigs in a sty."

To cease meseemeth best,
And of this tale to rest,
And for to leave this letter
Because it is no better,
And because it is no sweeter;
We will no further rime
Of it at this time,
But we will turn─ù plain
Where we left again.