And looked like a tattered rogue, "Give me my money back againe, "Or I will see your devill's heart, He gets not back againe to hell, And I will have some intrest too, Deliver first mine owne ten groats, I smell your devils knavery out, 66 Farewell, most scurvy conjuror, Thinke on my valiant deed, Which has done more then English George, That made the dragon bleed: He and his horse, the story tells, Did but a serpent slay: I and my dog the devill spoild, B FROM GAMMER GURTON'S NEEDLE.] ACK and syde go bare, go bare, Booth foote and hande go colde; But, belly, God sende thee good ale ynoughe, I can not eate but lytle meat, My stomacke is not goode; I am nothinge a-colde; I stuffe my skyn so full within, Back and syde go bare, go bare, &c. I love no rost, but a nut-brown toste No froste nor snow, no winde, I trow, I am so wrapt, and throwly lapt, Back and syde go bare, go bare, &c. And Tyb, my wyfe, that, as her lyfe, Now let them drynke tyll they nod and wynke Good ale doth bringe men to; And all poor soules that have scowred bowles Or have them lustily trolde, God gave the lyves of them and their wyves, Whether they be younge or olde. Back and syde go bare, go bare, But, belly, God sende thee good ale ynoughe, Whether it be newe or old. Pass. WOW Town-wit sayes to witty friend, To cry thee up to countrey-wit. Our mules are come! dissolve the club! 6 Now gamster poor, in cloak of stammel,1 Mounted on steed, as slow as cammel, Battoone of crab in luckless hand, (Which serves for bilboe and for wand) Early in morne does sneak from town, Least landlord's wife should seise on crown: On crown, which he in pouch does keep, When day is done, to pay for sleep; |