Stanzas LXXX–LXXXIII

LXXX
Item, upon my dearest Rose
Nor heart nor liver I bestow :
Thereat she would turn up her nose,
Albeit she hath coin eno', —
A great silk purse, as well I know,
Stuffed full of crowns, both new and old.
May he be hanged, or high or low,
That leaves her silver aught or gold!

LXXXI
For she without me has enow :
To me it matters not a jot:
My salad days are past, I trow ;
No more desire in me is hot :
All that I leave unto Michot,
That was surnamed the good gallant —
Or rather to his heirs ; God wot,
At St. Satur his tomb's extant.

LXXXII
This notwithstanding, to acquit
Me toward Love rather than her,
(For never had I any whit
Of hope from her : I cannot hear,
Nor do I care, if a deaf ear
To all she turns as well as me ;
But by Saint Maudlin I aver,
Therein but laughing-stuff I see.)

LXXXIII
This ballad shall she have of me,
That all with rhymes in R doth end :
Who shall be bearer? Let me see:
Fernet the Bastard I will send,
Provided, if, as he doth wend,
He come across my pugnosed frow,
This question he to her commend ;
' Foul Wanton, wherefrom comest thou ? '