I see, sir, you are liberal in offers. You taught me first to beg, and now methinks You teach me how a beggar should be answered.

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks, but I thank you; and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny.

Not that I have the power to clutch my hand When his fair angels would salute by palm, But for my hand, as unattempted yet, Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail And say there is no sin but to be rich; And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary.

It needs not nor it boots thee not, proud queen, Unless the adage must be verified, That beggars mounted run their horse to death.

A beggar through the world am I, From place to place I wander by. Fill up my pilgrim's scrip for me, For Christ's sweet sake and charity.

He who begs timidly courts a refusal. [Lat., Qui timide rogat, Docet negare.]