_C. Count._ What, shall we iangle thus all the day styll? _Cr. Con._ Nay, let vs our heddes togyder cast. _Fan._ Ye, and se howe it may be compast, That Mesure were cast out of the dores. _C. Count._ Alasse, where is my botes and my spores? _Cr. Con._ In all this hast whether wyll ye ryde? _C. Count._ I trowe, it shall not nede to abyde. Cockes woundes, se, syrs, se, se! _Hic ingrediatur CLOKED COLUSYON cum elato aspectu, deorsum et sursum ambulando._ _Fan._ Cockes armes, what is he? _Cr. Con._ By Cockes harte, he loketh hye; 580 He hawketh, me thynke, for a butterflye. _C. Count._ Nowe, by Cockes harte, well abyden, For, had you not come, I had ryden. _Cl. Col._ Thy wordes be but wynde, neuer they haue no wayght; Thou hast made me play the iurde hayte. _C. Count._ And yf ye knewe howe I haue mused, I am sure ye wolde haue me excused. _Cl. Col._ I say, come hyder: what are these twayne? _C. Count._ By God, syr, this is Fansy small brayne; And Crafty Conuayaunce, knowe you not hym? 590 _Cl. Col._ Knowe hym, syr! quod he; yes, by Saynt Sym. Here is a leysshe of ratches to renne an hare: Woo is that purse that ye shall share! _Fan._ What call ye him, this? _Cr. Con._ I trowe, that he is. _C. Count._ Tushe, holde your pece. Se you not howe they prece For to knowe your name? _Cl. Col._ Knowe they not me, they are to blame. Knowe you not me, syrs? 600 _Fan._ No, in dede. _Cr. Con._ Abyde, lette me se, take better hede: Cockes harte, it is Cloked Colusyon. _Cl. Col._ A, syr, I pray God gyue you confusyon! _Fan._ Cockes armes, is that your name? _C. Count._ Ye, by the masse, this is euen the same, That all this matter must vnder grope. _Cr. Con._ What is this he wereth, a cope? _Cl. Col._ Cappe, syr; I say you be to bolde. _Fan._ Se, howe he is wrapped for the colde: 610 Is it not a vestment? _Cl. Col._ A, ye wante a rope. _C. Count._ Tushe, it is Syr Johnn Double cloke. _Fan._ Syr, and yf ye wolde not be wrothe— _Cl. Col._ What sayst? _Fan._ Here was to lytell clothe. _Cl. Col._ A, Fansy, Fansy, God sende thé brayne! _Fan._ Ye, for your wyt is cloked for the rayne. _Cr. Con._ Nay, lette vs not clatter thus styll. _Cl. Col._ Tell me, syrs, what is your wyll. 620 _C. Count._ Syr, it is so that these twayne With Magnyfycence in housholde do remayne; And there they wolde haue me to dwell, But I wyll be ruled after your counsell. _Fan._ Mary, so wyll we also. _Cl. Col._ But tell me where aboute ye go. _C. Count._ By God, we wolde gete vs all thyder, Spell the remenaunt, and do togyder. _Cl. Col._ Hath Magnyfycence ony tresure? _Cr. Con._ Ye, but he spendeth it all in mesure. 630