CAREAWAY. No, that I did not, master, by my life, Until that other I was gone, And then my mistress sent me after anon, To wait on you home in the devil's name: I ween the devil never so beat his dame! MASTER BONGRACE. And where became that other Careaway? CAREAWAY. By mine honesty, sir, I cannot say; But I warrant he is now not far hence; He is here among this company, for forty pence. MASTER BONGRACE. Hence, at once seek and smell him out; I shall rap thee on the lying knave's snout: I woll not be deluded with such a glossing lie, Nor give credence, till I see it with my own eye. CAREAWAY. Truly, good sir, by your mastership's favour, I cannot well find a knave by the savour; Many here smell strong, but none so rank as he: A stronger-scented knave than he was cannot be. But, sir, if he be haply found anon, What amends shall I have for that you have me done? MASTER BONGRACE. If he may be found, I shall walk his coat. CAREAWAY. Yea, for our lady's sake, sir, I beseech you spare him not, For it is some false knave withouten doubt. I had rather than forty pence we could find him out; For, if a man may believe a glass, Even my very own self it was. And here he was but even right now, And stepped away suddenly, I wot not how. Of such another thing I have neither heard ne seen, By our blessed lady, heaven queen! MASTER BONGRACE. Plainly it was thy shadow, that thou didst see; For, in faith, the other thing is not possible to be. CAREAWAY. Yes, in good faith, sir, by your leave, I know it was I by my apples in my sleeve, And speaketh as like me as ever you heard:[203] Such hair, such a cap, such hose and coat, And in everything as just as fourpence to a groat. That if he were here, you should well see, That you could not discern nor know him from me; For think you, that I do not myself know? I am not so foolish a knave, I trow. Let who woll look him by and by, And he woll depose upon a book that he is I; And I dare well say you woll say the same; For he called himself by my own name. And he told me all that I have done, Sith five of the clock this afternoon, He could tell when you were to supper set [When] you send me home my mistress to fet, And showed me all things that I did by the way-- BONGRACE. What was that? CAREAWAY. How I did at the bucklers play; And when I scattered a basket of apples from a stall, And gathered them into my sleeve all, And how I played after that also-- BONGRACE. Thou shalt have, boy, therefore,[204] so mote I go; Is that the guise of a trusty page, To play, when he is sent on his master's message? DAME COY. Lay on and spare not, for the love of Christ, Joll his head to a post,[205] and favour your fist! Now for my sake, sweetheart, spare and favour your hand, And lay him about the ribs with this wand.