These swyne go to the hye dese,
The sowe with her pygges;
The bore his tayle wrygges,
His rumpe[498] also he frygges
Agaynst[499] the hye benche!
With, Fo, ther is a stenche! 180
Gather vp, thou wenche;
Seest thou not what is fall?
Take vp dyrt[500] and all,
And bere out of the hall: