( 3 )
What would you have where do you dwell?
I have no will to go with thee:
I fear it is ſome lower cell,
I pray thee therefore let me be.
This is a ſtormy night and cold,
I'll bring you to a righ warm inn
Will ye go forward and behold,
and mend your pace till we win in.
I'm fear'd your inn will be too warm,
for too much hotness is not beſt,
I know your way it is to hell,
for you are none of the eleven,
Go haſte you then into your cell,
my way is only into Heaven.
That way is by the gates of hell,
If you intend there for to go,
Good dame, I will not you compel,
but I will go with you alſo,
Then down they went a right ſteep hill,
where ſmoke and duſt did much abound,
And pitch and ſulphur burned ſtill,
With yells and cries hills did reſound;
The Fiend himſelf came to the gate.
I will not have you here good dame.
For you are miſtreſs of the of the flyting,
if once into theſe gates you came
I will be troubled with your biting.
Cummer gae back, and let me be,
here are too many of thi rout;
For women lewd like unto thee,
I cannot turn my foot about.
Sir thief, I ſay, I ſhall bide out.
But, goſſip was thou never to me.
For to come in I'm not ſo ſtout
And of my biting thou'ſ be free;
But Lucifer what's that to thee?
haſt thou no water in this place,
Thou look'n ſo black it ſeems to me,
thou ne'er does waſh thy ugly face,
