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THE WIFE OF BEITH.
IN Beith once dwelt a worthy wife,
Of whom brave Chaucer mention makes:
She lived a licencious life,
And namely in venereal acts:
But death did come, for all her cracks,
When years were ſpent and days out-driven,
Then ſuddenly ſhe ſickneſs takes,
Deceaſt forthwith, and went to heaven.
But as ſhe went upon the way,
There follow'd her a certain guide;
And kindly to her he did ſay,
Where mean you dame for to abide.
I know you are the Wife of Beith,
And would not then that you go wrong,
For I'm your friend and will be leath,
That you go through this narrow throng.
This way is broader; go with me,
And very pleaſant is the way:
I'll bring you there, where you would be.
Go with me friend, ſay me not nay.
She looked on him and did ſpeer,
I pray you, Sir, what is your name?
Show me the way how you came here,
To tell to me it is no ſhame.
Is that a favour 'bout your neck?
And what is that upon your ſide?
Is it a bag, or ſilver ſack?
What are you then? Where do you bide?
