Then unto London I dyd me hye,
Of all the land it beareth the pryse:
Hot pescodes, one began to crye,
Strabery rype, and cherryes in the ryse;
One bad me come nere and by some spyce,
Peper and safforne they gan me bede,
But for lack of mony I myght not spede.
Then to the Chepe I began me drawne,
Where mutch people I saw for to stande;
One ofred me velvet, sylke, and lawne,