HAVE been quite through England wide With many a faint and weary stride,

To see what people there abide

That love me,

Reprove me.

Few now endure my presence here,
I shall be banishd quite I fear,

I am despised every where,

And scorned,

Yet is my fortune now and then

To meet some good woman or man,

Who have, when they my woes did scan,

Sore mourned.

To think that Conscience is despised,
Which ought to be most highly prized,
This trick the devil hath devised

To blind men,

'Cause Conscience tells them of their ways, Which are so wicked now-a-days,

They stop their ears to what he says;

Unkind men!

I first of all went to the court,
Where lords and ladies did resort,
My entertainment there was short;-
Cold welcome!

As soon as e'er my name they heard,
They ran away full sore afeard,
And thought some goblin had appeard,

From hell come.

'Conscience,' quoth one, 'begone with speed, The court few of thy name doth breed,

We of thy presence have no need;—

Be walking;

Thou tellst us of our pride and lust,
Which spite of thee we follow must.'
So out of court was Conscience thrust,
No talking.

Thus banished from the court, I went
To Westminster incontinent,

Where I, alas, was sorely shent

For coming;

The lawyers did against me plead;

"'Twas no great matter,' some there said,

'If Conscience quite were knocked in th' head.'

Then running

From them I fled with winged haste;
They did so threaten me to baste,
Thought it was vain my breath to waste
In counsel.

For lawyers cannot me abide,

Because for falsehood I them chide,
And he that holds not on their side

Must down still.

Unto the city hied I then,

To try what welcome there tradesmen

Would give poor Robin Conscience; when

I came there,

The shop-keepers that use deceit

Did come about me and did threat,
Unless I would begone, to beat

Me lame there

And every one, both high and low,
Held Conscience as a mortal foe,
Because he doth ill vices show

Each minute.

Therefore the city in uproar
Against me rose, and me so tore
That I'm resolved I'll never more

Come in it.

On Friday I to Smithfield went,
Where being come, incontinent
The horse-coursers with one consent

Did chide me;

They said that I was not myself,

And said I was a pinching elf,

And they could get more store of pelf,

Beside me.

I told them of a cheating trick
Which makes the horses run and kick,
By putting in an eel that's quick

I' th' belly;

Another which they use full oft

To bear their lame jades' heads aloft,
And beat their buttocks till they're soft
As jelly.

I told them that their wealth would rot,
That they by cheating men thus got,
But they for this same tale would not
Abide me,

And charged me quickly to begone;
Quoth they, 'Of Conscience we use none;'
Those whom I follow with my mone
Out-ride me.

From thence I stept into Long Lane,
Where many brokers did remain,
To try how they would entertain

Poor Conscience

But my name when I to them told,
The women did begin to scold,
The men said they that word did hold
But nonsense.

For Conscience is so hard a word
That scarce the broker can afford
To read it, for his mouth is stored

With lying;

He knows not what this Conscience means,

That is no cause unto his gains;

Thus I was scornéd for my pains;

All crying,

Away with Conscience from this lane, For we his presence do disdain:'

They said if I came there again

Among them,

They said they'd band me back and side;

Being menaced, away I hied;

Thus wordlings think that, when I chide,
I wrong them.

Among the butchers then went I:

As soon as e'er they did me spy,

They threatened me most spitefully

To kill me;

Quoth one, 'If Conscience here should dwell,

We were not able to live well,

Nor could we gain by the meat we sell;

Be bound to follow Conscience nice,
Which would confine us to a price;
Robin, be ruled by my advice,

(Quoth he then)

And get thee to some other place;
We hate to look thee in the face:'
I, hearing this, from them a-pace

Did flee then.

To Newgate Market went I then,
Where country-women, maids, and men,
Were selling needful things; and when
They saw me,

At me the butter-woman rails,

Whose butter weighd not down the scales;
Another comes, and with her nails

Did claw me.

The bakers which stood in a row
Began to brawl at me also,
And charged me away to go,

Because I

Told them they did make lesser bread;-
Did not the laws put them in dread;-
There's some of them would wish them dead,
Might laws die.

Thus chid of them, my way I took
Unto Pye-corner, where a cook

Glanced at me as the devil did look

O'er Lincoln.

'Conscience,' quoth he, thou shewst no wit In coming to this place unfit;

I'll run thee thorow with a spit;

Then think on

These words to thee which I have said,

I cannot well live by my trade,

If I should still require thy_aid

In selling:

Sometimes one joint I must roast thrice,
Ere I can sell it at my price;

Then here's for thee, who art so nice,