A fork bearded Merchant rode with us too.
In many-coloured clothes, raised tall he sat,
With on his head a Belgian beaver hat,
And boot buckles designed most cleverly.
He always spoke his mind impressively,
Describing all the profit he had got.
"Shipping should be guarded, no matter what,"
He said, "between Holland and the Orwell"
French coin he would privately buy and sell.
This worthy man was so very cunning
That no one knew the debt that he was running,
For he always seemed certain of his facts,
Whenever he bargained or struck contracts.
True he was quite a decent sort and all
But what his name was I just can't recall.
A Marchant was ther with a forked berd,
In mottelee, and hye on horse he sat,
Upon his heed a Flaundryssh bever hat,
His bootes clasped faire and fetisly.
His resons he spak ful solempnely,
Sownynge alway th'encrees of his wynnyng.
He wolde the see were kept for any thyng
Bitwixe Middelburgh and Orewelle.
Wel koude he in eschaunge sheeldes selle.
This worthy man ful wel his wit bisette
Ther wiste no wight that he was in dette,
So estatly was he of his governaunce
With his bargaynes and with his chevyssaunce.
For sothe, he was a worthy man with-alle,
But, sooth to seyn, I noot how men hym calle.