Tom's a-cold, a small cut of thy bacon or a piece of thy sow's side, good Bess. God Almighty bless thy wits. Buy a new almanac. Buy a fine washing ball. Good gracious people, for the Lord's sake, pity the poor women, we lie cold and comfortless night and day on the cold boards in the dark dungeon in great misery.
Hot oat cakes.
Lanthorn and candlelight, hang out maids for all night. And so we make an end.