_Envy._ And I will say the same. Peace! whist! I see him come. [_Enter_ PROSPERITY. _Pros._ God save all this honourable company. _Envy._ Sir, you be welcome, by our blessed lady! I have thought for you full long. Here is a gentleman; I pray you, for my sake, Say he is welcome, and into your service him take, For great courtesy he can. _Pros._ Sir, you be welcome; give me your hand, And show me what is your name. _Mis._ Sir, my name is Mirth; Beloved with lords and ladies of birth, At every triumph I am them with: They can me not once forbear. _Envy._ And ye had sought this thousand year Such another ye shall not find; Wherefore I counsel you, in my mind, Let him dwell with you for one year. _Pros._ At your request, I am content; Such a pretty man for me were expedient; And of his counsel fain would I hear. _Mis._ Ye must sing and dance, and make good cheer: I would ye had some proper wench That were young and lusty; at a pinch, C4,_r._ Her heel were not so broad as an inch, She would quicken your courage. _Pros._ Peace hath forbid all that outrage. _Envy._ He would set you at dotage Because he is old, and nature is past; He would now every man should fast. If ye do so ye do but waste, And unto you no meed. _Mis._ A straw for him! ye have no need Of him to stand in awe or dread; A merrier life now may ye lead: Therefore, be at your own liberty. _Pros._ By my troth! I may say to thee Sith I to him did assent Had I never merry day; But lived in fear and dread alway, Nothing to mine intent. Another while I will me sport, Sing and dance, to my comfort. _Envy._ And among merry company do resort; For that shall length your life. _Mis._ Spare neither maid, ne wife; Take both and they come in your way. _Envy._ Off with this lewd array! It becometh you nought, by this day! _Pros._ By my troth! even as ye say. Yea, marry! now am I well apaid; Methinketh I am properly arrayed. If I had a proper trull, she should be assayed In the worship of the new year. _Envy._ Rush up mutton, for beef is dear! Have, and revel, and chance! _Mis._ Now let us both sing and dance. C4,_v._ Will ye have a French round? _Pros._ And thou shalt see me bounce above the ground: Hey, with revel dash! PEACE _entereth._ _Peace._ What, Prosperity! is it come hereto? _Pros._ What devil of hell hast thou to do? Shall I not make merry when me list? _Peace._ Yet I say, beware of Had I wist! _Envy._ Hence, ye knave! or else thou shalt lick my fist: I trow thy head would have some knocks. _Pros._ Go, set him in a pair of stocks, That I him no more see.