And now his wrath to 'scape, My love, I fly to thee, 10 Hoping some time I may remaine In safety here with thee.
With that she knit her brows, And looking all aquoy,[427] Quoth she, What should I have to do 15 With any prentice boy?
And seeing you have purloyn'd Your master's goods away, The case is bad, and therefore here You shall no longer stay. 20
Why, dear, thou knowst, I said, How all which I could get, I gave it, and did spend it all Upon thee every whit.
Quoth she, Thou art a knave, 25 To charge me in this sort, Being a woman of credit fair, And known of good report:
Therefore I tell thee flat, Be packing with good speed; 30 I do defie thee from my heart, And scorn thy filthy deed.
Is this the friendship, that You did to me protest? Is this the great affection, which 35 You so to me exprest?
Now fie on subtle shrews! The best is, I may speed To get a lodging any where, For money in my need. 40
False woman, now farewell, Whilst twenty pound doth last, My anchor in some other haven With freedom I will cast.
When she perceiv'd by this, 45 I had store of money there: Stay, George, quoth she, thou art too quick: Why, man, I did but jeer:
Dost think for all my speech, That I would let thee go? 50 Faith no, said she, my love to thee I wiss is more than so.
You scorne a prentice boy, I heard you just now swear, Wherefore I will not trouble you.---- 55 ----Nay, George, hark in thine ear;
Thou shalt not go to-night, What chance so e're befall: But man we'll have a bed for thee, O else the devil take all. 60
So I by wiles bewitcht, And snar'd with fancy still, Had then no power to 'get' away, Or to withstand her will.
For wine on wine I call'd, 65 And cheer upon good cheer; And nothing in the world I thought For Sarah's love too dear.
Whilst in her company, I had such merriment; 70 All, all too little I did think, That I upon her spent.
A fig for care and thought! When all my gold is gone, In faith, my girl, we will have more, 75 Whoever I light upon.
My father's rich, why then Should I want store of gold? Nay with a father sure, quoth she, A son may well make bold. 80
I've a sister richly wed, I'll rob her ere I'll want. Nay, then quoth Sarah, they may well Consider of your scant.
Nay, I an uncle have; 85 At Ludlow he doth dwell: He is a grazier, which in wealth Doth all the rest excell.