LONG-TONGUE

¶ Why dost thou remember, what is to be bought For the great Brydale against to morrow? The market must be in every place sought For all kind of meats, God Guy the sorrow. ¶ Well for this ones, I am with thee content So that hereafter thou make more hast, Or else I tell thee, thou Wilt it repent, To loiter so long, till the Market be passed. For there must be bought Byefe, Veil, and Mution, And that even such as is good and fat With Pig, Geese, Conies and Capon, How sayest thou Blanch blab it out unto that? There must be also Fesaunte and Swa e There must be Heronse er, Partic e and Quail, And therefore I must do, what I can, That of none of all these the Gente and fail. I Dam e say he looks for many things more, To be prepared against to worn, Wherefore I say, hence let us go, My feet do stand upon a thorn. ¶ Come of them dispa I, and speak it quickly For what thing it is, thou causest me to y. ¶ Blanch blab it out, thou sayest very true I think thou beginnest at length to preach This thing to me is strange and new, To hear such a fool youngmen to teach. ¶ Masters this woman did take such assay, And then in those days so applied her book, That one word thereof, she carried not away, But then of a Scholar was made a Cook. I dare say she knoweth not, how her Primer began, Which of her master she learned than. ¶ What did it Begin with butterde peeas? ¶ How, how, with my Madaine say in the peeas? ¶ I think thou art mad with Domine labia aperies. ¶ Yea marry, I judged it went such ways, It began with Dor the say up the keys. ¶ Why yet ones again, and I will better listen And look upon the, how thy lips do open. ¶ Fie, fie, how slow am I of understanding Was it all this while, Domine labia aperies? Belike I have lost my sense of hearing, With broiling and burning in the kytchyn adyes. ¶ Come on, come on, we have almost forgotten Such plenty of victuals as we should buy It were alms by my troth, thou were well beaten Because so long thou hast made me tarry. ¶ I for my part will never leave running Until that I come to the Sign of the Whitynge. ¶ In very deed, he comes a great way, With my Master he may not long abide, It hath cost him so much on costly array, That Money out of his purse apase does slide. They say that his friends be rich and wealthy And in the City of London have their dwelling, But yet of them all he hath no penny, To spends and bestow here at his wedding. And if it be true that his Servant did say He hath utterly lost his Friends good will Because he would not their counsel hay, And in his vone Country tarry Still. As for this woman, which he shall mary At Sainet Albans always, hath spent her life I think she be a shrew, I tell thee plainly, And full of debate, malice and strife. NAke hast Blanch Blab it out, & come a way For we have ynought to do all this whole day, Why Blanch blab it out, wilt thou not come And knowest what business there is to be done? If thou may be set with the pot at thy nose Thou carest not how other matters goes, Come a way I did the, and tarry no longer To trust to thy help, I am much the better.