The Poor Wench Bemoaned Herself

'You are a milk-sopping baby to sow to harp on women,' said Matcheam. 'But pray for her, hadn't you, list?' She was the best wench in Europe was this Joan of Arc', replied Dick. "'Old Apple Yard, the Archer, ran from her,' he said, as if she had been Mahoon. And I be to marry, I will marry dry-eyed.' "What matters foul or fair? You are no milk-sop, Master Richard. You will wed with dry eyes anyhow.""I think I be a man of wood indeed,' said Dick, to trudge a foot the while you writhe my

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