_Troll the bowl and drink to me, and troll the bowl again, And put a brown toast in [the] pot for Philip Fleming's brain. And I shall toss it to and fro, even round about the house-a: Good hostess, now let it be so, I brink them all carouse-a._ PHILIP. Marry, here is a pot of noppy good ale. As clear as crystal pure and stale. Now a crab in the fire were worth a good groat, That I might quass with my captain Tom Tosspot. What? I can no sooner wish, but by and by I have! God save mine eyesight, methink I see a knave. What, captain! how goeth the world with you? Why, now I see the old proverb to be true; Like will to like, both with Christian, Turk, and Jew. Marry, Philip, even as I was wont to do: PHILIP. Ralph Roister told me that I should find Hance here, Where is he, that he doth not appear? NEW. I hold twenty pound the knave is blind. Turn about, Philip Fleming, and look behind. Hast thou drunk so much that thy eyes be out? Lo, how he snoreth like a lazy lout. Go to him, for he sleepeth sound: Two such paunches in all England can scant be found. PHILIP. Why, Hance, art thou in thy prayers so devoutly? Awake, man, and we two will quass together stoutly. HANCE. _Domine, dominus noster_; Me-think ich a spied three knaves on a cluster. NEW. Stay a while, for he sayeth his _pater noster_. HANCE. _Sanctum benedictum_, what have I dreamed? By Gog's nowns, chad thought ich had been in my bed. Chad dreamed such a dream, as thou wilt marvel to hear, Me-thought I was drowned in a barrel of beer. And by and by the barrel was turned to a ship, Which me-thought the wind made nicely to skip. And I did sail therein from Flanders to France: At last ich was brought hither among a sort of knaves by chance. NEW. Lo, Hance, here is Philip Fleming come now, We will go drink together now, how say'st thou? HANCE. I pray thee, good Vilip, now lead me away: PHILIP. Give me thy hand, and I will thee stay. HANCE. How say you, Master Nichol, will you keep us company? NEW. Go before, Master Lick-hole,[348] and I will come by and by. Mates matched together, depart you three; I will come after, you may believe me. [_They three are gone together, and_ NICHOL NEWFANGLE _remaineth behind, but he must not speak till they be within_.] NEW. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! _He sings._ _Now three knaves are gone, and I am left alone, Myself here to solace; Well done, gentle Jone, why begin you to moan? Though they be gone, I am in place._ _And now will I dance, and now will I prance, For why I have none other work: Snip snap, butter is no bone meat: Knave's flesh is no pork._