CAREAWAY. Now mercy that I ask of you both twain: Save my life, and let me not be slain. I have had beating enough for one day: That a mischief take the other-me Careaway! That if ever he come to my hands again, I-wis it shall be to his pain. But I marvel greatly, by our Lord Jesus, How he-I escaped, I-me beat me thus. And is not he-I an unkind knave, That woll no more pity on myself have? Here may you see evidently, i-wis, That in him-me no drop of honesty is. Now a vengeance light on such a churlish knave That no more love toward myself have! DAME COY. I knew very,[206] sweet-heart, and said right now, That no fault thereof should be in you. BONGRACE. No, truly, good bedfellow, I were then much unkind, If you at any time should be out of my mind. DAME COY. Surely, I have of you a great treasure, For you do all things which may be to my pleasure. BONGRACE. I am sorry that your chance hath now been so ill: I would gladly been unsupped, so you had your fill; But go we in, pigsnie, that you may sup; You have cause now to thank this same hang-up; For had not he been, you had fared very well. DAME COY. I bequeath him with a hot vengeance to the devil of hell, And heartily I beseech him that hanged on the rood, That he never eat nor drink that may do him good, And that he die a shameful death, saving my charity! CAREAWAY. I pray God send him such prosperity, That hath caused me to have all this business. But yet, sirs, you see the charity of my mistress: She liveth after a wonderful charitable fashion; For I assure you she is always in this passion, And scarcely one day throughout the whole year She woll wish any man better cheer, And some time, if she well-angered be, I pray God (woll she say) the house may sink under me! But, masters, if you happen to see that other I, As that you shall, it is not very likely, Nor I woll not desire you for him purposely to look, For it is an uncomparable unhappy hook; And if it be I, you might happen to seek, And not find me out in an whole week. For when I was wont to run away, I used not to come again in less than a month or tway: Howbeit, for all this I think it be not I; For, to show the matter indeed truly, I never use to run away in winter nor in vere,[207] But always in such time and season of the year, When honey lieth in the hives of bees, And all manner fruit falleth from the trees: As apples, nuts, pears, and plums also, Whereby a boy may live abroad a month or two. This cast do I use, I woll not with you feign; Therefore I wonder if he be I, certain. But, and if he be, and you meet me abroad by chance, Send me home to my master with a vengeance! And show him, if he come not here to-morrow night, I woll never receive him again, if I might; And in the meantime I woll give him a groat, That woll well and thriftily walk his coat; For a more ungracious knave is not even now Between this place and Calicow.[208] Nor a more frantic-mad knave in Bedlam, Nor a more fool hence to Jerusalem.