Nay, naye, be sure, whyles I am on your syde, Ye maye not fall, truste me, ye maye not fayle; 170 Ye stonde[271] in fauoure, and Fortune is your gyde, And, as she wyll, so shall our grete shyppe sayle: Thyse lewde cok wattes[272] shall neuermore preuayle Ageynste you hardely, therfore be not afrayde: Farewell tyll soone; but no worde that I sayde. DREDE. Than thanked I hym for his grete gentylnes: But, as me thoughte, he ware on hym a cloke, That lyned was with doubtfull doublenes; Me thoughte, of wordes that he had full a poke; His stomak stuffed ofte tymes dyde reboke: 180 Suspycyon, me thoughte, mette hym at a brayde, And I drewe nere to herke what they two sayde. In faythe, quod Suspecte, spake Drede no worde of me? Why, what than? wylte thou lete men to speke? He sayth, he can not well accorde with thé. Twyst,[273] quod Suspecte, goo playe, hym I ne reke. By Cryste, quod Fauell, Drede is soleyne freke: What lete vs holde him vp, man, for a whyle? Ye soo, quod Suspecte, he maye vs bothe begyle. And whan he came walkynge soberly, 190 Wyth whom and ha, and with a croked loke, Me thoughte, his hede was full of gelousy, His eyen rollynge, his hondes faste they quoke; And to me warde the strayte waye he toke: God spede, broder![274] to me quod he than; And thus to talke with me he began. SUSPYCYON. Ye remembre the gentylman ryghte nowe That commaunde[275] with you, me thought, a party space?[276] Beware of him, for, I make God auowe, He wyll begyle you and speke fayre to your face: 200 Ye neuer dwelte in suche an other place, For here is none that dare well other truste; But I wolde telle you a thynge, and I durste. Spake he a fayth no worde to you of me? I wote, and he dyde, ye wolde me telle. I haue a fauoure to you, wherof it be That I muste shewe you moche[277] of my counselle: But I wonder what the deuyll of helle He sayde of me, whan he with you dyde talke: By myne auyse[278] vse not with him to walke. 210 The soueraynst thynge that ony[279] man maye haue, Is lytyll to saye, and moche[280] to here and see; For, but I trusted you, so God me saue, I wolde noo thynge so playne be; To you oonly, me thynke, I durste shryue me For now am I plenarely dysposed To shewe you thynges that may not be disclosed. DREDE. Than I assured hym my fydelyte, His counseyle secrete neuer to dyscure,[281] Yf he coude fynde in herte to truste me; 220 Els I prayed hym, with all my besy cure, To kepe it hymselfe, for than he myghte be sure That noo man[282] erthly coude hym bewreye, Whyles of his mynde it were lockte with the keye.