_Magn._ What nede you with hym thus prate and chat? _Fan._ Shewe vs your mynde then, howe to do and what. _Magn._ I say, that I wyll ye haue hym in gydynge. _Lyb._ Mayster Felycyte, let be your chydynge, And so as ye se it wyll be no better, Take it in worthe suche as ye fynde. _Fan._ What the deuyll, man, your name shalbe the greter, For welth without largesse is all out of kynde. _Lyb._ And welth is nought worthe, yf lyberte be behynde. _Magn._ Nowe holde ye content, for there is none other shyfte. 1460 _Fel._ Than waste must be welcome, and fare well thryfte! _Magn._ Take of his substaunce a sure inuentory, And get thou[831] home togyther; for Lyberte shall byde, And wayte vpon me. _Lyb._ And yet for a memory, Make indentures howe ye and I shal gyde. _Fan._ I can do nothynge but he stonde besyde. _Lyb._ Syr, we can do nothynge the one without the other. _Magn._ Well, get you hens than, and sende me some other. _Fan._ Whom? lusty Pleasure, or mery Consayte? 1470 _Magn._ Nay, fyrst lusty Pleasure is my desyre to haue, And let the other another[832] awayte, Howe be it that fonde felowe is a mery knaue; But loke that ye occupye the auctoryte that I you gaue. [_Here goeth out FELYCYTE, LYBERTE, and FANSY._ _MAGNYFYCENCE alone in the place._ For nowe,[833] syrs, I am lyke as a prynce sholde be; I haue welth at wyll, largesse and lyberte: Fortune to her lawys can not abandune me, But I shall of Fortune rule the reyne; I fere nothynge Fortunes perplexyte; All honour to me must nedys stowpe and lene; 1480 I synge of two partys without a mene; I haue wynde and wether ouer all to sayle, No stormy rage agaynst me can peruayle. Alexander, of Macedony kynge, That all the oryent had in subieccyon, Though al his conquestys were brought to rekenynge, Myght seme ryght wel vnder my proteccyon To rayne, for all his marcyall affeccyon; For I am prynce perlesse prouyd of porte, Bathyd with blysse, embracyd with comforte. 1490 Syrus, that soleme syar of Babylon, That Israell releysyd of theyr captyuyte, For al his pompe, for all his ryall trone, He may not be comparyd vnto me. I am the dyamounde dowtlesse of dygnyte: Surely it is I that all may saue and spyll; No man so hardy to worke agaynst my wyll. Porcenya, the prowde prouoste of Turky lande, That ratyd the Romaynes and made them yll rest, Nor Cesar July, that no man myght withstande, 1500 Were neuer halfe so rychely as I am drest: No, that I assure you; loke who was the best. I reyne in my robys, I rule as me lyst, I dryue downe th[e]se dastardys with a dynt of my fyste. Of Cato the counte acountyd the cane, Daryus, the doughty cheftayn of Perse, I set not by the prowdest of them a prane, Ne by non other that any man can rehersse. I folowe in felycyte without reue[r]sse,