TOM. I knew Hance, when he was, as he say'th: For he was once a scholar in good faith; But through my company he was withdrawn from thence, Through his riot and excessive expense. Unto this trade, which now you do in him see: So that now he is wholly addicted to follow me; And one of my guard he is now become. Well, Hance, well, thou wast once a white son![347] NEW. Now, so God help me, thou art a pretty fellow, Hance; A clean-legged gentleman, and as proper a paunch, As any I know between this and France. HANCE. Yes, by-by-by God, ich co'd once dance. NEW. I speak of no dancing, little-bellied Hance; But, seeing thou say'st thou canst so well dance, Let me see where thou canst dance lively. HANCE. Tha-tha-that ca-ca-can I do vull trimly. [_He danceth as evil-favoured as may be demised, and in the dancing he falleth down, and when he riseth, he must groan._ NEW. Rise again, Hance, thou hadst almost got a fall: But thou dancest trimly, legs and all. Body of me, Hance, how doth thy belly, canst thou tell? By the mass, he hath beray'd his breeches, methink by the smell. TOM. I will help thee up, Hance, give me thy hand. [_He riseth._ HANCE. By-by mass, ch-ch-chwas almost down, I think ve-verily. NEW. Wast thou almost down, Hance? marry, so think I, But thou art sick, methink by the groaning: He grunts like a bear, when he is a-moaning. Hark, how his head aches, and how his pulses do beat: I think he will be hang'd, his belly is so great. HANCE. Go-Go-God-amercy, good Tom, with all my heart: NEW. If thou canst not leap, Hance, let me see thee drink a quart, And get thee out abroad into the air. TOM. Tush, he had more need to sleep in this chair. Sit down, Hance, and thou shalt see anon, Philip Fleming will come to fetch thee home. [HANCE _sitteth in the chair, and snorteth, as though he were fast asleep_. NEW. I pray thee, Tom Tosspot, is this one of thy men? TOM. He is a companion of mine now and then. NEW. By the faith of my body, such carpenter, such chips, And as the wise man said, such lettuce, such lips. For, like master, like man: like tutor, like scholar; And, like will to like, quoth the Devil to the Collier. TOM. It is no remedy, for it must needs so be; Like will to like, you may believe me. [PHILIP FLEMING _entereth with a pot in his hand_. NEW. Lo, where Philip Fleming cometh even in pudding time! TOM. He bringeth in his hand either good ale or else good wine. PHILIP FLEMING _singeth these four lines following_: