We ben chapmen light of fote,
The foule weyes for to flee.

We bern abouten non cattes skinnes,
Purses, perles, silver pinnes,
Smale wimpeles for ladies chinnes;
Damsele, bey sum ware of me.

I have a poket for the nones,
Therine ben tweyne precious stones;
Damsele, hadde ye asayed hem onys,
Ye shuld the rathere gon with me.

I have a jelif of Godes sonde —
Withouten fyt it can stonde;
It can smiten and hath non honde;
Ryd yourself what it may be.

I have a powder for to selle,
What it is can I not telle;
It maket maidenes wombes to swelle:
Thereof I have a quantitee.