And then the matter is in as yll case. But in fayth all these wordes be in wast, 105 For I thynke the matter is done and past; And whan she cometh home she wyll begyn to chyde, But she shall have her payment styk by her syde; For I shall order her, for all her brawlyng, That she shall repent to go a catter-wawlyng.[250] 110 [_Enter_ TYB.] _Tyb._ Why, whom wylt thou beate, I say, thou knave? _Johan._ Who, I, Tyb? none, so God me save. _Tyb._ Yes, I harde the say thou woldest one bete. _Johan._ Mary, wyfe, it was stokfysshe[251] in Temmes Strete, Whiche wyll be good meate agaynst Lent. A ii _b_ 115 Why, Tyb, what haddest thou thought that I had ment? _Tyb._ Mary, me thought I harde the bawlyng. Wilt thou never leve this wawlyng?[252] Howe the dyvell dost thou thy selfe behave? Shall we ever have this worke, thou knave? 120 _Johan._ What! wyfe, how sayst thou? was it well gest of me That thou woldest be come home in safete, As sone as I had kendled a fyre? Come warme the, swete Tyb, I the requyre. _Tyb._ O, Johan Johan, I am afrayd, by this lyght, 125 That I shalbe sore syk this nyght. _Johan_ [_aside_]. By cokkis soule, nowe, I dare lay a swan That she comes nowe streyght fro Syr Johan; For ever whan she hath fatched of hym a lyk, Than she comes home, and sayth she is syk. 130 _Tyb._ What sayst thou? _Johan._ Mary, I say, It is mete for a woman to go play Abrode in the towne for an houre or two. _Tyb._ Well, gentylman, go to, go to. _Johan._ Well, let us have no more debate. 135 _Tyb_ [_aside_]. If he do not fyght, chyde, and rate, Braule and fare as one that were frantyke, There is nothyng that may hym lyke.[253] _Johan_ [_aside_]. If that the parysshe preest, Syr Jhān, Dyd not se her nowe and than, And gyve her absolution upon a bed, For wo and payne she wolde sone be deed. _Tyb._ For goddis sake, Johan Johan, do the not displease, Many a tyme I am yll at ease. What thynkest nowe, am not I somwhat syk? 145 _Johan_ [_aside_]. Nowe wolde to God, and swete Saynt Dyryk,[254] That thou warte in the water up to the throte, Or in a burnyng oven red hote, To se an I wolde pull the out. _Tyb._ Nowe, Johan Johan, to put the out of dout, 150 Imagyn thou where that I was Before I came home. _Johan._ My percase,[255] Thou wast prayenge in the Churche of Poules Upon thy knees for all Chrysten soules. _Tyb._ Nay. _Johan._ Than if thou wast not so holy, 155 Shewe me where thou wast, and make no lye?