_Peace._ Yet, man! I say, remember thee, And think what I to thee have said: Eschew evermore these rioters' company, And be ruled by reason, as I thee bade. Put from thee these two persons, by whom thou art lade-- Envy and Misrule, with their sinful and great abusion, Which, if thou wilt not forsake, will be thy confusion. _Pros._ Avaunt, lorel! and take this for a conclusion: These men from me thou shalt not separate. Go! out of my sight! or, by Cock's passion! I shall lay thee fast in Newgate. _Peace._ It is better to forsake them betime than too late. _Mis._ This knave would have a broken pate; Let me alone, by God's bread! This same sword shall strike off his head. _Pros._ I pray you, hence that he were rid-- Shortly have him out of my sight! _Peace._ A little while give me respite, And take heed what I do say: Remember in what condition thou was When I first met thee in this place-- Full simple, in poor array. B1,_r._ Now, by the grace of God and counsel of me, Thou art come to great prosperity; And so mayst continue, until thou die, If thou wisely take heed. Let not sensuality lead the bridle; Be occupied in virtue, and be not idle; The better shalt thou proceed. These wretches will thy goods spend and waste; Then shalt thou be taken for an outcast, And mocked and scorned with most and least; Then will no man thee help at need. _Envy._ A, sir, evil mote thou speed, That so can read his destiny! _Mis._ Will ye suffer this knave in your company? Then God be with you! I will forsake you. _Pros._ Go hence! or in faith I shall make you! _Peace._ Then to almighty God I betake you. _Envy._ Let me come to that bragger! I shall thrust him through the arse with my dagger. [_And here they face_ PEACE _out of the place_. How say ye? was not this a good face, To drive a knave out of the place? _Mis._ In faith, thou made him run apace! Thou looked as thou had been mad. _Pros._ Now, by my troth! my heart is glad; Some minstrel now I would we had, To revel and dance; for, by saint Chad! I am so light methink I flee! _Envy._ Yea, marry! so should it be; For now I hold you wise. _Mis._ Sir, and ye will do mine advice, Let us go straight to the Fleur de Lys; There shall ye find a man will play at dice D1,_v._ With you for an hundred pound. _Pros._ What man is he? _Mis._ Colhazard; came late from beyond the sea, Ragged and torn, in a garded coat; And, in his purse, never a groat; And now he goeth like a lord! _Pros._ I pray thee tell me at one word-- Is he a gentleman bore? _Envy._ Tush! take no thought therefore! For be he gentleman, knave, or boy, If he come hither with trifle or a toy, He can no money lack.