16
THE MERIE BALLAD
Wherefore, dame baud, soe dainty as you be,
fetch gentle Mistres Francis vnto me.”
“By Holy dame,” quoth shee, “and gods one mother
I well perceaue you are a wyly brother;
For if there be a morcell of better price,
youle find yt out, though I be now soe nice.
As you desire, soe shall you swiue with her;
but look, your purse-stringes shall abide yt deere;
For he whoole feed on quayles, must lauish crownes,
and Mistres Fraunces, in her velvett gownes,
Her ruffe and perriwigge soe fresh as May,
Cannot be kept for halfe a crowne a daye.”
“Of price, good hostes, wee will not debate,
although you assize me at the highest rate;
Onely conduct me to this bonny bell,
and tenn good gobletes vnto thee I’le tell,
of gold or siluer, which shall like you best,
soe much I doe her company request.”
Awaye she went, soe sweete a worde is golde,
it makes invasion in the strongest holde;
Loe, here she comes that hath my harte in keeping,
sing lullaby, my cares and fall a sleeping.
Sweeping she comes, as she would brush the ground:
her Ratling silcke my senses doe Confound:
Awaye I am ravisht: “voyd the chamber straight,
I must be straight vppon her with my waight.”
“My Tomalyn,” quoth she, and then she smiled:
fetch gentle Mistres Francis vnto me.”
“By Holy dame,” quoth shee, “and gods one mother
I well perceaue you are a wyly brother;
For if there be a morcell of better price,
youle find yt out, though I be now soe nice.
As you desire, soe shall you swiue with her;
but look, your purse-stringes shall abide yt deere;
For he whoole feed on quayles, must lauish crownes,
and Mistres Fraunces, in her velvett gownes,
Her ruffe and perriwigge soe fresh as May,
Cannot be kept for halfe a crowne a daye.”
“Of price, good hostes, wee will not debate,
although you assize me at the highest rate;
Onely conduct me to this bonny bell,
and tenn good gobletes vnto thee I’le tell,
of gold or siluer, which shall like you best,
soe much I doe her company request.”
Awaye she went, soe sweete a worde is golde,
it makes invasion in the strongest holde;
Loe, here she comes that hath my harte in keeping,
sing lullaby, my cares and fall a sleeping.
Sweeping she comes, as she would brush the ground:
her Ratling silcke my senses doe Confound:
Awaye I am ravisht: “voyd the chamber straight,
I must be straight vppon her with my waight.”
“My Tomalyn,” quoth she, and then she smiled:
