_Pride._ Marry, sir! for it is right fitting That a man of your behaving Should have alway sufficient cunning Of worldly wit and policy To guide himself everywhere; And not to be led by the ear, And beg wit, here and there, Of every Jack-a-pie. Ye are well complexioned, be ye sure; And Nature hath done on you her cure As much as upon any creature That ever I saw with mine eye. And, by likelihood, sir! I wis Ye have wit according to all this; Or else Nature hath wrought amiss: And that is not likely. _Man._ Now, certain, thanked be heaven's king! I have a right quick understanding. If ye show me anything I can soon perceive it; But I was forbid by Reason On mine own fantasy to run, Or to take any presumption Of mine own wit. _Pride._ Said Reason so? Marry, fie on him, knave! It were better the hangman were in his grave Than ever the lewd fool should have The governance of you. _Man._ Certain, Nature advised me To follow Reason what time that she Put me first in authority That I stand in now. _Pride._ Alas, alas, man! ye be mad-- I see well ye be but a very lad. On my faith! I was very glad Of your first acquaintance; And now, I forthink it utterly That ever I knew you: fie, fie, fie! I heard never, certainly, Of such another chance. Will ye draw to that fellowship? I would ye had three stripes with a whip, Even upon the bare hip, If I should you not grieve. He that would lordship enjoy, And play ever still the old boy, Meseemeth he doth but make a toy And ye will me believe. _Man._ Worship! for God's sake grieve ye not. _Pride._ I wis ye are but an idiot-- I pray you, sir, make not me a sot; I am no trifler! I have been in honour heretoforne, Ye allow the counsel of a carl born, Before mine I have it in scorn-- It is a thing I cannot bear. _Man._ Whom mean ye, Reason? _Pride._ Yea, that same daw! _Man._ What, is he a wise man? _Pride._ He is a straw Because he keeps you under awe; Ye be therein blind. _Man._ And so doth he, without faining; For, hitherto, I might do nothing But after his will and bidding: And that groged my mind. _Pride._ Groge, quotha! it is no marvel, hardely; It shall grieve me, certainly, As long as I am in your company To see you demeaned in that wise. Ye be now in good way; But, in faith! I like not your array; It is not the fashion that goeth now-a-day, For now there is a new guise. It is now two days agone Sith that men began this fashion, And every knave had it anon; Therefore, at this season, There is no man that setteth thereby If he love his own honesty.