text: Ay, beshrew you! by my fay,
  These wanton clerks be nice alway!
  Avaunt, avaunt, my popinjay!
  What, will ye do nothing but play?
  Tilly, vally, straw, let be I say!
  Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of the Vale!
  With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale.
  
  By God, ye be a pretty pode,
  And I love you an whole cart-load.
  Straw, James Foder, ye play the fode,
  I am no hackney for your rod:
  Go watch a bull, your back is broad!
  Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of the Vale!
  With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale.
  
  Ywis ye deal uncourteously;
  What, would ye frumple me? now fy!
  What, and ye shall be my pigesnye?
  By Christ, ye shall not, no hardely:
  I will not be japed bodily!
  Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of the Vale!
  With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale.
  
  Walk forth your way, ye cost me nought;
  Now have I found that I have sought:
  The best cheap flesh that I ever bought.
  Yet, for his love that all hath wrought,
  Wed me, or else I die for thought.
  Gup, Christian Clout, your breath is stale!
  Go, Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale!
  Gup, Christian Clout, gup, Jack of the Vale!
  With Mannerly Margery Milk and Ale.