_Fol._ By our lakyn, syr, I haue ben a hawkyng[845] for the wylde swan. 1830 My hawke is rammysshe, and it happed that she ran, Flewe I sholde say, in to an olde barne, To reche at a rat, I coude not her warne; She pynched her pynyon, by God, and catched harme: It was a ronner; nay, fole, I warant her blode warme. _Magn._ A, syr, thy iarfawcon and thou be hanged togyder! _Fol._ And, syr, as I was comynge to you hyder, I sawe a fox sucke on a kowes ydder, And with a lyme rodde I toke them bothe togyder. I trowe it be a frost, for the way is slydder: 1840 Se, for God auowe, for colde as I chydder. _Magn._ Thy wordes hange togyder as fethers in the wynde. _Fol._ A, syr, tolde I not you howe I dyd fynde A knaue and a carle, and all of one kynde? I sawe a wethercocke wagge with the wynde; Grete meruayle I had, and mused in my mynde; The houndes ranne before, and the hare behynde; I sawe a losell lede a lurden, and they were bothe blynde; I sawe a sowter go to supper or euer he had dynde. _Magn._ By Cockes harte, thou arte a fyne mery knaue. 1850 _Fol._ I make God auowe, ye wyll none other men[846] haue. _Magn._ What sayst thou? _Fol._ Mary, I pray God your maystershyp to saue: I shall gyue you a gaude of a goslynge that I gaue, The gander and the gose bothe grasynge on one graue; Than Rowlande the reue ran, and I began to raue, And with a brystell of a bore his berde dyd I shaue. _Magn._ If euer I herde syke another, God gyue me shame. _Fol._ Sym Sadylgose was my syer, and Dawcocke my dame: I coude, and I lyst, garre you laughe at a game, 1860 Howe a wodcocke wrastled with a larke that was lame: The bytter sayd boldly that they were to blame; The feldfare wolde haue fydled, and it wolde not frame; The crane and the curlewe therat gan to grame; The snyte snyueled in the snowte and smyled at the game. _Magn._ Cockes bones, herde you euer suche another? _Fol._ Se, syr, I beseche you, Largesse my brother. _Here FANSY cometh in._ _Magn._ What tydynges with you, syr, that you loke so sad? _Fan._ When ye knowe that I knowe, ye wyll not be glad. _Fol._ What, brother braynsyke, how farest thou? 1870 _Magn._ Ye, let be thy iapes, and tell me howe The case requyreth. _Fan._ Alasse, alasse, an heuy metynge! I wolde tell you, and yf I myght for wepynge. _Fol._ What, is all your myrthe nowe tourned to sorowe? Fare well tyll sone, adue tyll to morowe. _Here goth FOLY away._ _Magn._ I pray thé, Largesse, let be thy sobbynge. _Fan._ Alasse, syr, ye are vndone with stelyng and robbynge! Ye sent vs a superuysour for to take hede: Take hede of your selfe, for nowe ye haue nede. 1880 _Magn._ What, hath Sadnesse begyled me so?