Meg goes a shroving, fights the Thieves of St. James's Corner, and makes them restore Father Willis, the Carrier, his hundred marks.

Not only the cities of London and Westminster, but Lancashire also, rung of Meg's fame, so they desired old Willis, the carrier, to call upon her, which he did, taking with him the other lasses. Meg was joyful to see them, and it being Shrove Tuesday, Meg went with them to Knightsbridge, and spent most of the day with repeating tales of their friends in Lancashire; and so tarried the carrier, who again and again inquired how all did there, and made the time seem shorter than it was. The night growing on, the carrier and the two other lasses were importunate to be gone, but Meg was loath to set out, and so stayed behind to discharge the reckoning, and promised to overtake them.

It was their misfortune at St. James's Corner to meet with two thieves who were waiting there for them, and took a hundred marks from Willis, the carrier, and from the two wenches their gowns and purses. Meg came up immediately after, and then the thieves, seeing her also in a female habit, thought to take her purse also; but she behaved herself so well that they began to give ground. Then said Meg, "Our gowns and purses against your hundred marks; win all and wear all." "Content," quoth they. "Now, lasses, pray for me," said Meg. With that she buckled with these two knaves, beat one and so hurt the other that they entreated her to spare their lives. "I will," said she, "upon conditions." "Upon any condition," said they. "Then," said she, "it shall be thus—

1. That you never hurt a woman nor any company she
is in.
2. That you never hurt lame or impotent men.
3. That you never hurt any children or innocents.
4. That you rob no carrier of his money.
5. That you rob no manner of poor or distressed.

"Are you content with these conditions?" "We are," said they. "I have no book about me," said she, "but will you swear on my smock tail?" which they accordingly did, and then she returned the wenches their gowns and purses, and old Father Willis, the carrier, a hundred marks.

The men desiring to know who it was had so lustily beswinged them, said—"To alleviate our sorrow, pray tell us your name." She smiling replied—"If anyone asks you who banged your bones, say Long Meg of Westminster once met with you."