I knowe your vertu and your lytterature[323] By that lytel connynge that I haue: 450 Ye be malygned sore, I you ensure; But ye haue crafte your selfe alwaye to saue: It is grete scorne to se a mysproude knaue With a clerke that connynge is to prate: Lete theym go lowse theym, in the deuylles date! For all be it that this longe not to me, Yet on my backe I bere suche lewde delynge: Ryghte now I spake with one, I trowe, I see; But, what, a strawe! I maye not tell all thynge. By God, I saye there is grete herte brennynge 460 Betwene the persone ye wote of, you;[324] Alas, I coude not dele so with a Jew![325] I wolde eche man were as playne as I; It is a worlde, I saye, to[326] here of some: I hate this faynynge, fye vpon it, fye! A man can not wote where to be come: I wys I coude tell,[327]—but humlery, home; I dare not speke, we be so layde awayte, For all our courte is full of dysceyte. Now, by saynte Fraunceys, that holy man and frere, 470 I hate these[328] wayes agayne you that they take: Were I as you, I wolde ryde them full nere; And, by my trouthe, but yf an ende they make, Yet wyll I saye some wordes for your sake, That shall them angre, I holde thereon a grote; For some shall wene be hanged by the throte. I haue a stoppynge oyster in my poke, Truste me, and yf it come to a nede: But I am lothe for to reyse a smoke, Yf ye coude be otherwyse agrede; 480 And so I wolde it were, so God me spede, For this maye brede to a confusyon, Withoute God make a good conclusyon. Naye, see where yonder stondeth the teder man! A flaterynge knaue and false he is, God wote; The dreuyll stondeth to herken, and he can: It were more thryft, he boughte him a newe cote; It will not be, his purse is not on flote: All that he wereth, it is borowed ware; His wytte is thynne, his hode is threde bare. 490 More coude I saye, but what this is ynowe: Adewe tyll soone, we shall speke more of this: Ye muste be ruled as I shall tell you howe; Amendis maye be of that is now amys; And I am your, syr, so haue I blys, In[329] euery poynte that I can do or saye: Gyue me your honde, farewell, and haue good daye. DREDE. Sodaynly, as he departed me fro, Came pressynge in one in a wonder araye: Er I was ware, behynde me he sayde, Bo! 500 Thenne I, astonyed of that sodeyne fraye, Sterte all at ones, I lyked no thynge his playe; For, yf I had not quyckely fledde the touche, He had plucte oute the nobles of my pouche.