Some couched a hogges heed vnder a hatche Some threwe out bayte fysshe to catche Some pulled vp the bonauenture Some to howes the tope sayle dyde entre Some stered at the helme behynde Some whysteled after the wynde There was non that there was But he had an offyce more or lasse Than Cocke Lorell dyde his whystele blowe That all his men sholde hym knowe With that they cryed and made a shoute That the water shoke all aboute Than men myght here the ores classhe And on the water gaue many a dasshe They sprede theyr sayles as voyde of sorowe Forthe they rowed Saint George to borowe For Ioy their trūpettes dyde they blowe And some songe heue and howe rombelowe They sayled fro garlyke hede to knaues in And a pele of gonnes gan they rynge Of colman hedge a sight they had That made his company very glad For there they thought all to play Bytwene tyborne and chelsay With this man was a lusty company For all raskyllers fro them they dyde trye C. ii. _a._ They banysshed prayer peas and sadnes And toke with them myrthe sporte and gladnes They wolde not haue vertu ne yet deuocyon But ryotte and reuell with ioly rebellyon C. ii. _b._ They songe and daunsed full merely With swerynge and starynge heuen hye Some said yᵗ they were gētle mē of grete myght That ther purses were so lyght And some wente in fured gownes and gay shone That had no mo faces than had the mone Of this daye gladde was many a brothell That myght haue an ore with Cocke Lorell Thus they daunsed with all theyr myght Tyll that phebus had lost his lyght But than came lucyna with all her pale hewe To take her sporte amonge the cloudes blewe And marcury he trewe downe his goldē bemes And sperus her syluer stremes That in the worlde gaue so grete lyght As all the erth had be paued with whyte Thā Cocke wayed anker and housed his sayle And forthe he rowed without fayle They sayled England thorowe and thorowe Vyllage towne cyte and borowe They blessyd theyr shyppe whan they had done And dranke about saynt Iulyans torne Than euery man pulled at his ore With that I coulde se them no more But as they rowed vp the hyll The bote swayne blewe his whystell full shryll And I wente homwarde to mowe shame stere With a company dyde I mete As ermytes monkes and freres Chanons chartores and inholders C. iij. _a._ And many whyte nonnes with whyte vayles That was full wanton of theyr tayles To meet with Cocke they asked how to do C. iij. _b._ And I tolde them he was a go Than were they sad euerychone And went agayne to theyr home But my counseyll I gaue them there To mete with Cocke another yere No more of Cocke now I wryte But mery it is whan knaues done mete Cocke had in his hande a grete route