Ye Foe to Cathaye

O never an oathe sweares he,
  And never a pig-taile jerkes;
  With a brick-batte he ne lurkes
For to buste ye crust, perdie,
Of ye man from over sea,
  A-synging as he werkes.
For he knows ful well, ys youth,
A tricke of exceeding worth:
And he plans withouten ruth
  A conflagration’s birth!