Against this cold weather my naked arms[209] to defend:
This gear it warms the soul: now, wind, blow on thy worst,
And let us drink and swill till that our bellies burst,
Now were he a wise man, by cunning could define
Which way my journey lieth, or where Diccon will dine:
But one good turn I have, be it by night or day,
South, east, north, or west, I am never out of my way.
Hodge. Chim goodly rewarded, cham I not, do you think?
Chad a goodly dinner for all my sweat and swink.[210]
Neither butter, cheese, milk, onions, flesh, nor fish,