_Johan._ By cokkis soule, and she ones chyde, Or frowne, or loure, or loke asyde, I shall brynge you a staffe as myche as I may heve, Than bete her and spare not; I gyve you good leve To chastyce her for her shreude varyeng. 415 [_They return to_ JOHAN'S _house_.] _Tyb._ The devyll take the for thy long taryeng! Here is not a whyt of water, by my gowne, To washe our handes that we myght syt downe; Go and hye the, as fast as a snayle, And with fayre water fyll me this payle. 420 _Johan._ I thanke our Lorde of his good grace That I cannot rest longe in a place. _Tyb._ Go, fetche water, I say, at a worde, B ii For it is tyme the pye were on the borde; And go with a vengeance, & say thou art prayde. 425 _Syr. J._ A! good gossyp! is that well sayde? _Tyb._ Welcome, myn owne swete harte, We shall make some chere or we departe. _Johan._ Cokkis soule, loke howe he approcheth nere Unto my wyfe: this abateth my chere. [_Exit._] 430 _Syr J._ By God, I wolde ye had harde the tryfyls, The toys, the mokkes, the fables, and the nyfyls,[277] That I made thy husbande to beleve and thynke! Thou myghtest as well into the erthe synke, As thou coudest forbeare laughyng any whyle. 435 _Tyb._ I pray the let me here part of that wyle. _Syr J._ Mary, I shall tell the as fast as I can. But peas, no more--yonder cometh thy good man. [_Re-enter_ JOHAN.] _Johan._ Cokkis soule, what have we here? As far as I sawe, he drewe very nere 440 Unto my wyfe. _Tyb._ What, art come so sone? Gyve us water to wasshe nowe--have done. _Than he bryngeth the payle empty._ _Johan._ By kockes soule, it was, even nowe, full to the brynk, But it was out agayne or I coude thynke; Wherof I marveled, by God Almyght, 445 And than I loked betwene me and the lyght And I spyed a clyfte, bothe large and wyde. Lo, wyfe! here it is on the tone[278] syde. _Tyb._ Why dost not stop it? _Johan._ Why, howe shall I do it? _Tyb._ Take a lytle wax. _Johan._ Howe shal I come to it? 450 _Syr J._ Mary, here be ii wax candyls, I say, Whiche my gossyp Margery gave me yesterday. _Tyb._ Tusshe, let hym alone, for, by the rode, It is pyte to helpe hym, or do hym good. _Syr J._ What! Jhan Jhan, canst thou make no shyfte? 455 Take this waxe, and stop therwith the clyfte. _Johan._ This waxe is as harde as any wyre. _Tyb._ Thou must chafe it a lytle at the fyre.