Then down came Jacob through the cloſe,
And ſaid go backward down to hell.
Jacob, quoth ſhe, I know thy voice,
That gate pertaineth to thy ſell;
Of thy old trumperies I can tell,
Thou with two ſiſters 'edd ſt thy life
And the third part of theſe tribes twelve,
Thou got with maids beſides thy wife,
And ſtole thy father's benniſon,
Only by fraud thy father frae,
Gave thou not him for veniſon
A kid inſtead of a baken rae.
Jacob himſelf was tickled ſo,
He went to Lot where he was lying.
And to the gate prayed him to go,
To ſtaunch the auld wife of her crying.
Lot ſays Fair maid make leſs ado,
And come again another day.
Old harlot carle and drunkard too,
Thou with thine own daughters lay
Of thine untimely ſeed I ſay,
Proceeded never good but ill.
Poor Lot for ſhame then ſtole away,
And left the wife to knock her fill.
Meek Moſes then went down at laſt
To pacify the carline then:
Now dame ſaid he don t knock ſo faſt,
Your knocking will not let you ben.
Good Sir, ſaid ſhe I am aghaſt,
Whene'er I look you in the face,
If your law until now had laſt,
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WIFE OF BEITH