Trowest thou, dreuyll, I saye, thou gawdy knaue, That I haue deynte to see thé cherysshed thus? By Goddis syde, my sworde thy berde shall shaue; Well, ones thou shalte be chermed, I wus: 340 Naye, strawe for tales, thou shalte not rule vs; We be thy betters, and so thou shalte vs take, Or we shall thé oute of thy clothes shake. DREDE. Wyth that came Ryotte, russhynge all at ones, A rusty gallande, to-ragged and to-rente; And on the borde he whyrled a payre of bones, _Quater treye dews_ he clatered as he wente; Now haue at all, by saynte Thomas of Kente! And euer he threwe and kyst[301] I wote nere what: His here was growen thorowe oute his hat. 350 Thenne I behelde how he dysgysed was: His hede was heuy for watchynge ouer nyghte, His eyen blereed, his face shone lyke a glas; His gowne so shorte that it ne couer myghte His rumpe, he wente so all for somer lyghte; His hose was garded wyth a lyste of grene, Yet at the knee they were broken, I wene. His cote was checked[302] with patches rede and blewe; Of Kyrkeby Kendall was his shorte demye; And ay he sange, In fayth, decon thou crewe; 360 His elbowe bare, he ware his gere so nye; His nose a[303] droppynge, his lyppes were full drye; And by his syde his whynarde and his pouche, The deuyll myghte daunce therin for ony[304] crowche. Counter he coude _O lux_ vpon a potte; An[305] eestryche fedder of a capons tayle He set vp fresshely vpon his hat alofte: What reuell route! quod he, and gan to rayle How ofte he hadde[306] hit Jenet on the tayle, Of Felyce fetewse, and lytell prety Cate, 370 How ofte he knocked at her klycked gate. What sholde I tell more of his rebaudrye? I was ashamed so to here hym prate: He had no pleasure but in harlotrye. Ay, quod he, in the deuylles date, What arte thou? I sawe thé nowe but late. Forsothe, quod I, in this courte I dwell nowe. Welcome, quod Ryote, I make God auowe.[307] RYOTE. And, syr, in fayth why comste not vs amonge, To make thé mery, as other felowes done? 380 Thou muste swere and stare, man, al daye longe, And wake all nyghte, and slepe tyll it be none; Thou mayste not studye, or muse on the mone; This worlde is nothynge but ete, drynke, and slepe, And thus with vs good company to kepe. Plucke vp thyne herte vpon a mery pyne, And lete vs laugh a placke[308] or tweyne at nale: What the deuyll, man, myrthe was neuer one![309] What, loo, man, see here of dyce a bale! A brydelynge caste for that is in thy male! 390 Now haue at all that lyeth vpon the burde! Fye on this dyce, they be not worth a turde!