_Fan._ Nay, madnesse hath begyled you and many mo; For Lyberte is gone and also Felycyte. _Magn._ Gone? alasse, ye haue vndone me! _Fan._ Nay, he that ye sent vs, Clokyd Colusyon, And your payntyd Pleasure, Courtly Abusyon, And your demenour with Counterfet Countenaunce, And your suruayour,[847] Crafty Conueyaunce, Or euer we were ware brought vs in aduersyte, And had robbyd you quyte from all felycyte. 1890 _Magn._ Why, is this the largesse that I haue vsyd? _Fan._ Nay, it was your fondnesse that ye haue vsyd. _Magn._ And is this the credence that I gaue to the letter? _Fan._ Why, coulde not your wyt serue you no better? _Magn._ Why, who wolde haue thought in you suche gyle? _Fan._ What? yes, by the rode, syr, it was I all this whyle That you trustyd, and Fansy is my name; And Foly, my broder, that made you moche game. _Here cometh in ADUERSYTE._ _Magn._ Alas, who[848] is yonder, that grymly lokys? _Fan._ Adewe, for I wyll not come in his clokys.[849] 1900 _Magn._ Lorde, so my flesshe trymblyth nowe for drede! _Here MAGNYFYCENCE is beten downe, and spoylyd from all his goodys and rayment._ _Aduer._ I am Aduersyte, that for thy mysdede From God am sent to quyte thé thy mede. Vyle velyarde, thou must not nowe my dynt withstande, Thou must not abyde the dynt of my hande: Ly there, losell, for all thy pompe and pryde; Thy pleasure now with payne and trouble shalbe tryde. The stroke of God, Aduersyte I hyght; I pluke downe kynge, prynce, lorde, and knyght, I rushe at them rughly, and make them ly full lowe, 1910 And in theyr moste truste I make them ouerthrowe. Thys losyll was a lorde, and lyuyd at his lust, And nowe, lyke a lurden, he lyeth in the dust: He knewe not hymselfe, his harte was so hye; Nowe is there no man that wyll set by hym a flye: He was wonte to boste, brage, and to brace; Nowe dare he not for shame loke one in the face: All worldly welth for hym to lytell was; Nowe hath he ryght nought, naked as an asse: Somtyme without measure he trusted in golde, 1920 And now without mesure he shal haue hunger and colde. Lo, syrs, thus I handell them all That folowe theyr fansyes in foly to fall: Man or woman, of what estate they be, I counsayle them beware of Aduersyte. Of sorowfull seruauntes I haue many scores: I vysyte them somtyme with blaynes and with sores; With botches and carbuckyls in care I them knyt; With the gowte I make them to grone where they syt; Some I make lyppers and lazars full horse; 1930 And from that they loue best some I deuorse; Some with the marmoll to halte I them make; And some to cry out of the bone ake; And some I vysyte with brennynge of fyre; Of some I wrynge of the necke lyke a wyre; And some I make in a rope to totter and walter; And some for to hange themselfe in an halter;