He gives the wool to the women to comb it and card it and spin it; he receives it from them again and gives it to the weaver to be woven into cloth; he gives the cloth to the fuller to be fulled and the dyer to be dyed; and having received it when finished, he has it made up into dozens and sends it off to the wholesale dealer, the draper, who sells it; perhaps he has been wont to send it to that very 'Thomas Perpoint, draper' whom he calls 'my cosyn' and makes his executor.

The whole of Thomas Paycocke's daily business is implicit in his will.

In the year of his death he was still employing a large number of workers and was on friendly and benevolent terms with them.

The building of his house had not signalized his retirement from business, as happened when another great clothier, Thomas Dolman, gave up cloth-making and the weavers of Newbury went about lamenting: Lord have mercy upon us, miserable sinners.
Thomas Dolman has built a new house and turned away all his spinners.[6] The relations between Paycocke and his employees evinced in his will are happy ones.

Such was not always the case, for if the clothiers of this age had some of the virtues of capitalists, they also had many of their vices, and the age-old strife of capital and labour was already well advanced in the fifteenth century.