BALLAD OF THE FAIR HELMET-MAKER
TO THE GIRLS OF JOY
FROM VILLON
Now think hereof, fair Gloveress,
That wast my scholar constantly,
And you too, Blanche the Cobbleress,
'Tis time to walk now warily,
Take right and left; I pray you, see
Ye spare no man in any place;
For old girls keep no currency,
No more than coin cried down for base.
That wast my scholar constantly,
And you too, Blanche the Cobbleress,
'Tis time to walk now warily,
Take right and left; I pray you, see
Ye spare no man in any place;
For old girls keep no currency,
No more than coin cried down for base.
And you, my dainty Flesheress,
So light in dance of heel and knee,
And Winifred the Weaveress,
Despise not low your master free;
Ye too must shut up shop, all ye
When ye wax old and bleak of face;
Of no more use than old priests be,
No more than coin cried down for base.
So light in dance of heel and knee,
And Winifred the Weaveress,
Despise not low your master free;
Ye too must shut up shop, all ye
When ye wax old and bleak of face;
Of no more use than old priests be,
No more than coin cried down for base.
Take heed too, Joan the Hatteress,
That no fiend lime your liberty;
No more, fair Kate, the Spurrieress,
Bid men go hang or pack to sea;
That no fiend lime your liberty;
No more, fair Kate, the Spurrieress,
Bid men go hang or pack to sea;
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