Classic Poem

Tell you I chill,
If that ye will
Awhile be still,
Of a comely Gill
That dwelt on a hill:
But she is not gryl,
For she is somewhat sage
And well worn in age.
For her visage
It would assuage
A man's corage.
Her loathly lere
Is nothing clear,
But ugly of cheer,
Droopy and drowsy,
Scurvy and lowsy,
Her face all bowsy,
Comely crinkled,
Woundrously wrinkled,
Like a roast pig's ear,
Bristled with hair.
Her lewd lipp─ùs twain,
They slaver, men sayne,
Lik a ropy rain,
A gummy glair.
She is ugly fair.
Her nose somedele hooked,
And camously crooked,
Never stopping,
But ever dropping;
Her skin, loose and slack,
Grained like a sack;
With a crooked back.
Her eyen gowndy
Are full unsowndy,
For they are bleared;
And she gray-haired,
Jawed like a jetty;
A man would have pity
To see how she is gummed,
Fingered and thumbed,
Gently jointed,
Greased and annointed
Up to the knuckles;
The bones of her huckles
Like as they were with buckles
Together made fast.
Her youth is far past.
Footed like a plane,
Legged like a crane,
And yet she will jet
Like a jollivet,
In her furred flocket,
And gray russet rocket,
With simper and cocket.
Her hood of Lincoln green
It had been hers, I ween,
More than forty year;
And so doth it appear,
For the green bare thread─ùs
Look like sere weed─ùs,
Withered like hay,
The wool worn away.
And yet, I dar─ù say,
She thinketh herself gay
Upon the holy day
When she doth her array
And girdeth in her geets
Stitched and pranked with pleats;
Her kirtle Bristol-red,
With clothes upon her head
That weigh a sow of lead,
Writhen in wondrous wise
After the Saracen's guise,
With a whim-wham
Knit with a trim-tram
Upon her brain-pan;
Like an Egyptian
Capped about.
When she goeth out
Herself for to shew,
She driveth down the dew
With a pair of heel─ùs
As broad as two wheel─ùs;
She hobbles as a goose
With her blanket hose
Over the fallow;
Her shoon smeared with tallow,
Greased upon dirt
That baudeth her skirt.

FIT THE FIRST

And this comely dame,
I understand, her name
Is Elinour Rumming,
At home in her wonning;
And as men say
She dwelt in Surrey,
In a certain stead
Beside Leatherhead.
She is a tonnish gib,
The devil and she be sib.

But to make up my tale,
She breweth nappy ale,
And maketh thereof pot-sale
To travellers, to tinkers,
To sweaters, to swinkers,
And all good ale-drinkers,
That will nothing spare
But drink till they stare
And bring themselves bare,
With " Now away the mare!
And let us slay care."
As wise as an hare!

Come whoso will
To Elinour on the hill
With " Fill the cup, fill!"
And sit there by still,
Early and late.
Thither cometh Kate,
Cisly and Sarah,
With their legs bar─ù,
And also their feet
Hardely full unsweet;
With their heel─ùs dagged,
Their kirtles all to-jagged,
Their smock─ùs all to-ragged,
With titters and tatters,
Bring dishes and platters,
With all their might running
To Elinour Rumming
To have of her tunning.
She lendeth them on the same,
And thus beginneth the game.
Some wenches come unlaced,
Some housewives come unbraced,
With their naked papp─ùs,
That flipp─ùs and flapp─ùs,
That wigg─ùs and wagg─ùs
Like tawny saffron bagg─ùs;
A sort of foul drabb─ùs
All scurvy with scabb─ùs.
Some be flybitten,
Some skewed as a kitten;
Some with a shoe-clout
Bind their head─ùs about;
Some have no hair-lace,
Their locks about their face,
Their tresses untrussed
All full of unlust;
Some look strawry,
Some cawry-mawry;
Full untidy tegg─ùs,
Like rotten egg─ùs.
Such a lewd sort
To Elinour resort
From tide to tide.
Abide, abide!
And to you shall be told
How her ale is sold
To Maud and to Mold.

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.

FIT THE THIRD

Instead of coin and money
Some bring─ù her a coney,
And some a pot with honey,
Some a salt, and some a spoon,
Some their hose, some their shoon;
Some run a good trot
With a skillet or a pot;
Some fill their pot full
Of good Lemster wool:
An housewife of trust,
When she is athirst,
Such a web can spin,
Her thrift is full thin.

Some go straight thither,
Be it slaty or slither:
They hold the highway,
They care not what men say,
Be that as be may.
Some, loth to be espied,
Start in at the back─ù-side
Over the hedge and pale,
And all for the good ale.
Some runn─ù till they sweat,
Bring with them malt or wheat,
And Dame Elinour entreat
To birle them of the best.

Then cometh another guest:
She sweareth by the rood of rest
Her lipp─ùs are so dry
Without drink she must die,
" Therefore fill it by and by,
And have here a peck of rye."

Anon cometh another,
As dry as the other,
And with her doth bring
Meal, salt, or other thing,
Her harvest girdle, her wedding-ring,
To pay for her scot
As cometh to her lot.
One bringeth her husband's hood
Because the ale is good;
Another brought her his cap
To offer to the ale-tap,
With flax and with tow;
And some brought sour dough
With " Hey" and with " Ho!
Sit we down a row,
And drink till we blow,
And pipe " Tirly Tirlow! " "

Some laid to pledge
Their hatchet and their wedge,
Their heckle and their reel,
Their rock, their spinning-wheel;
And some went so narrow
They laid to pledge their wharrow,
Their ribskin and their spindle,
Their needle and their thimble.
Here was scant thrift
When they made such shift.
Their thirst was so great
They asked never for meat,
But " Drink, still drink,
And let the cat wink!
Let us wash our gums
From the dry crumbs!"

FIT THE FOURTH

Some for very need
Laid down a skein of thread,
And some a skein of yarn;
Some brought from the barn
Both bean─ùs and peas;
Small chaffer doth ease
Sometime, now and then;
Another there was that ran
With a good brass-pan,
Her colour was full wan;
She ran in all the haste,
Unbraced and unlaced;
Tawny, swart, and sallow
Like a cake of tallow.
I swear by all hallow
It was a stale to take
The devil in a brake!
And then came halting Joan,
And brought a gambone
Of bacon that was reasty:
But, Lord, as she was testy,
Angry as a waspy!
She began to gape and gaspy,
And bade Elinour go bet
And fill in good met;
It was dear that was far-fet.

Another brought a spick
Of a bacon flick,
Her tongue was very quick
But she spake somewhat thick.
Her fellow did stammer and stut,
But she was a foul slut,
For her mouth foamed
And her belly groaned:
Joan sayn she had eaten a fiest.
" By Christ," said she, " thou liest,
I have as sweet a breath
As thou, with shameful death!"
Then Elinour said, " Ye callets,
I shall break your palates,
Without ye now cease!"
And so was made the peace.
Then thither came drunken Alice,
And she was full of tal─ùs,
Of tidings in Wal─ùs,
And of Saint James in Gal─ùs,
And of the Portingal─ùs,
With " Lo, gossip, ywis,
Thus and thus it is:
There hath been great war
Between Temple Bar
And the Cross in Cheap,
And there came an heap
Of mill-stones in a rout . . ."
She speaketh thus in her snout,
Snivelling in her nose
As though she had the pose.
" Lo, here is an old tippet,
An ye will give me a sippet
Of your stale ale,
God send you good sale!"
And as she was drinking
She fell in a winking
With a barlichood,
She pissed where she stood.
Then began she to weep,
And forthwith fell asleep.
Elinour took her up
And blessed her with a cup
Of new─ù ale in corn─ùs:
Alice found therein no thorn─ùs,
But supped it up at on─ùs,
She found therein no bon─ùs.

FIT THE FIFTH

Now in cometh another rabble:
First one with a ladle,
Another with a cradle,
And with a side-saddle:
And there began a fabble,
A clattering and a babble
Of foolish Philly
That had a foal with Willy,
With " Jast you!" and " Gup gilly!"
She could not lie stilly.

Then came in a jennet
And swore, " By Saint Bennet,
I drank not this sennight
A draught to my pay!
Elinour, I thee pray,
Of thine ale let us essay,
And have here a pilch of gray:
I wear skinn─ùs of coney,
That causeth I look so dony!"

Another then did hitch her,
And brought a pottle-pitcher,
A tunnel and a bottle,
But she had lost the stopple:
She cut off her shoe-sole,
And stopped therewith the hole.

Among─ù all the blommer
Another brought a skommer,
A frying-pan, and a slicer:
Elinour made the pric─ù
For good ale each wit.

Then start in mad Kit
That had little wit:
She seemed somedele sick
And brought a penny chick
To Dame Elinour
For a draught of liquor.

Then Margery Milkduck
Her kirtle she did uptuck
An inch above her knee,
Her legs that ye might see;
But they were sturdy and stubbed,
Mighty pestles and clubbed,
As fair and as white
As the foot of a kite.
She was somewhat foul,
Crooken-necked like an owl;
And yet she brought her fees,
A cantle of Essex cheese,
Was well a foot thick
Full of maggots quick:
It was huge and great,
And mighty strong meat
For the devil to eat:
It was tart and pungete!

Another set of sluts:
Some brought walnuts,
Some apples, some pears,
Some brought their clipping shears,
Some brought this and that,
Some brought I wot ne'er what;
Some brought their husband's hat,
Some puddings and links,
Some tripes that stinks.
But of all this throng
One came them among,
She seemed half a leech
And began to preach
Of the Tuesday in the week
When the mare doth kick;
Of the virtue of an unset leek,
Of her husband's breek;
With the feathers of a quail
She could to Bordeaux sail;
And with good ale barm─ù
She could make a charm─ù
To help withal a stitch:
She seemed to be a witch.
Another brought two goslings
That were noughty frostlings;
She brought them in a wallet,
She was a comely callet:
The goslings were untied;
Elinour began to chide,
" They be wretchocks thou hast brought,
They are sheer shaking nought!"

FIT THE SIXTH

Maud Ruggy thither skipped:
She was ugly hipped,
And ugly thick lipped,
Like an onion sided,
Like tan leather hided.
She had her so guided
Between the cup and the wall
That she was there withal
Into a palsy fall;
With that her head shaked,
And her hand─ùs quaked,
One's head would have ached
To see her naked.
She drank so of the dregg─ùs,
The dropsy was in her legg─ùs;
Her face glistering like glass,
All foggy fat she was.
She had also the gout
In all her joints about;
Her breath was sour and stale,
And smelled all of ale:
Such a bedfellaw
Would make one cast his craw.
But yet for all that
She drank on the mash-vat.
There came an old ribibe:
She halted of a kibe,
And had broken her shin
At the threshold coming in,
And fell so wide open
That one might see her token,
The devil thereon be wroken!
What need all this be spoken?
She yelled like a calf.
" Rise up, on God's half!"
Said Elinour Rumming,
" I beshrew thee for thy coming!"
And as she at her did pluck,
" Quack, quack!" said the duck
In that lampatram's lap;
With " Fie, cover thy shap
With some flip flap!
God give it ill hap,"
Said Elinour, " for shame!" —
Like an honest dame.
Up she start, half lame,
And scantly could go
For pain and for woe.
In came another dant,
With a goose and a gant:
She had a wide weasant;
She was nothing pleasant,
Necked like an elephant;
It was a bulliphant,
A greedy cormorant.
Another brought her garlic heads,
Another brought her beads
(Of jet or of coal)
To offer to the ale pole.
Some brought a wimble,
Some brought a thimble,
Some brought a silk lace,
Some brought a pincase,
Some her husband's gown,
Some a pillow of down,
Some of the napery
...
And all this shift they make
For the good ale sake.

" A straw!" said Bely, " stand utter,
For we have eggs and butter,
...
And of pigeons a pair."

Then start forth a fizgig,
And she brought a boar pig,
The flesh thereof was rank,
And her breath strongly stank;
Yet, ere she went, she drank,
And gat her great thank
Of Elinour for her ware
That she thither bare
To pay for her share.
Now truly, to my thinking,
This is a solemn drinking!

FIT THE SEVENTH

" Soft!" quod one hight Sybil,
" And let me with you bibble."
She sat down in the place
With a sorry face
Whey-wormed about.
Garnished was her snout
With here and there a pustule
Like a scabbed mussel.
" This ale," said she, " is noppy;
Let us supp─ù and soppy
And not spill a droppy,
For, so may I hoppy,
It cooleth well my croppy.

" Dame Elinour," said she,
" Have here is for me —
A clout of London pins!"
And with that she begins
The pot to her pluck
And drank a " good-luck."
She swinged up a quart
At once for her part:
Her paunch was so puffed,
And so with ale stuffed,
Had she not hied apace
She had defiled the place.

Then began the sport
Among that drunken sort.
" Dame Elinour," said they,
" Lend here a cock of hay
To make all thing clean —
Ye wot well what we mean!"

But, sir, among all
That sat in that hall
There was a prick-me-dainty
Sat like a sainty
And began to painty
As though she would fainty:
She made it as coy
As a lege de moy ;
She was not half so wise
As she was peevish nice.
She said never a word,
But rose from the board
And called for our dame,
Elinour by name.
We supposed, ywis,
That she rose to piss:
But the very ground
Was for to compound
With Elinour in the spence,
To pay for her expense.
" I have no penny nor groat
To pay," she said, " God wote,
For washing of my throat,
But my beads of amber
Bear them to your chamber."
Then Elinour did them hide
Within her bedd─ùs side.

But some then sat right sad
That nothing had,
There of their own,
Neither gelt nor pawn:
Such were there many
That had not a penny.
But, when they should walk,
Were fain with a chalk
To score on the balk,
Or score on the tail:
God give it ill hail!
For my fingers itch,
I have written too much
Of this mad mumming
Of Elinour Rumming.
Thus endeth the geste
Of this worthy feast.