MAID

Welcome Pedlar, hast thou any fine needles here? Or any stiff pins sharp at the point I pray you. Wisely spoken John Hoddy-peake, Your thrift and your wit, at the good ale you do spend: If thou hast any, at once bring them forth: I may not stand prattling all day with thee. Wilt thou have me buy the big in the poake? I may see for love, and buy for money. By God, and I know chalk from cheese, I can discern and honest man from a knave, If nought I gain by thee, nought, nought, will I lose. None of thy wares, none of my money thou shalt have. Better then any thou hast I can buy, But to perceive what thou art I do begin: If thou hast either needles or pins there let me die, You compass the country, some cheat by craft to win: I never knew honest man of this occupation, But either he was a dyser, a drunkard, or a maker of shift A picker, a cutpurse, a raiser of simulation, Or such a one as run away with another men wife. God for his passion, when were you there? I beshrew his heart, that told you that. I thought you had not be a Pedlar long: You were one of those that stood on the pillery, That you were not all hanged you had wrong, For by the devil you wrought some sorcery. You are inspired with the holy Ghost newly, But the devil is within you so God me save. I will keep counsel, I know not what you mean, You are too wise for me goodman Pedlar. Mother, of this Pedlar take heed and beware, For he can tell all things that I have said and done. As a lame man hath no profit by his saire legs, So out of the mouth of him that is not honest, A good sentence is not worth a couple of eggs, But is as profitable as is snow in harvest, Who may speak worse against and evil life, Then Pedlars whose whole trade is idleness: Dicers, drunkards, makers of strife, Very Sinks and sentences of all wickedness. Say what thou wilt, thou shalt not see my hand, For in thee is neither manners nor modesty. He shall see no hand of mine here to day I am as I am, and as you have me up brought. When the Rambe pusheth against the Serpent, Then perish all Pedlars and peaking Proctors: The day will come that the Lion will be fervent, Then take heed all dreamers, and doting Doctors. By your honesty, a man may you assoon believe, As I will do a dog when he sweareth by his christendom. Now surely mother as I am true maid, He knoweth no more then the Faukener of France. He hath as many spectacles, needles, and pins, He goes about the country under that pretence. The house is the worse where such Pedlars be, Good Lord father, do you believe ought that he does say? I marvel what goodness in him you do see, He shall not come in our house truly if I may. No by my troth, I cannot bear anger long, Mine anger is soon come, and soon gone: Then let us sing the Pedlar is a knave, When you will Pedlar, you may begin. That do all Pedlars love as their lives, And specially when one meeteth with another.