_Fan._ Ye, syr, a blannched almonde is no bene. Measure is mete for a marchauntes hall, But largesse becometh a state ryall. What, sholde you pynche at a peeke of otes, Ye wolde sone pynche at a pecke of grotes. 390 Thus is the talkynge of one and of oder, As men dare speke it hugger mugger; A lorde a negarde, it is a shame, But largesse may amende your name. _Magn._ In faythe, Largesse, welcome to me. _Fan._ I pray you, syr, I may so be, And of my seruyce you shall not mysse. _Magn._ Togyder we wyll talke more of this: Let vs departe from hens home to my place. _Fan._ I folow euen after your noble grace. 400 _Hic discedat MAGNIFICENS cum FANSY, et intrat[789] COUNTERFET COUNTENAUNCE._ _C. Count._ What, I say, herke a worde. _Fan._ Do away, I say, the deuylles torde! _C. Count._ Ye, but how longe shall I here awayte? _Fan._ By Goddys body, I come streyte: I hate this blunderyng that thou doste make. _C. Count._ Nowe to the deuyll I thé betake, For in fayth ye be well met. Fansy hath cachyd in a flye net This noble man Magnyfycence, Of Largesse vnder the pretence. 410 They haue made me here to put the stone: But nowe wyll I, that they be gone, In bastarde ryme, after the dogrell gyse, Tell you where of my name dothe ryse. For Counterfet Countenaunce knowen am I; This worlde is full of my foly. I set not by hym a fly, That can not counterfet a lye, Swere, and stare, and byde therby, And countenaunce it clenly, 420 And defende it manerly. A knaue wyll counterfet nowe a knyght, A lurdayne lyke a lorde to fyght,[790] A mynstrell lyke a man of myght, A tappyster lyke a lady bryght: Thus make I them wyth thryft to fyght, Thus at the laste I brynge hym[791] ryght To Tyburne, where they hange on hyght. To counterfet I can by praty wayes: Of nyghtys to occupy counterfet kayes, 430 Clenly to counterfet newe arayes, Counterfet eyrnest by way of playes: Thus am I occupyed at all assayes; What so euer I do, all men me prayse, And mekyll am I made of nowe adays: Counterfet maters in the lawe of the lande, Wyth golde and grotes they grese my hande, In stede of ryght that wronge may stande, And counterfet fredome that is bounde; I counterfet[792] suger that is but founde; 440 Counterfet capytaynes by me are mande; Of all lewdnesse I kyndell the brande; Counterfet kyndnesse, and thynke dyscayte; Counterfet letters by the way of sleyght; Subtelly vsynge counterfet weyght; Counterfet langage, fayty bone geyte. Counterfetynge is a proper bayte; A counte to counterfet in a resayte; To counterfet well is a good consayte. Counterfet maydenhode may well be borne, 450 But counterfet coynes is laughynge to scorne;