Whyle (man) beste and euery lyuely creature Refresshe theyr myndes and bodyes with rest And slepe: without the whiche none can endure And whyle all byrdes drawe them to theyr nest These dronken bandes of Folys than doth Jest About the stretis, with rumour noyse and cry Syngynge theyr folysshe songes of rybawdry The furyes ferefull spronge of the flodes of hell Vexith these vagabundes in theyr myndes so That by no mean can they abyde ne dwell Within theyr howsys, but out they nede must go More wyldly wandrynge than outher bucke or doo Some with theyr harpis another with his lute Another with his bagpype or a folysshe flute Than mesure they theyr songes of melody Before the dores of theyr lemman dere Yowlynge with theyr folysshe songe and cry So that theyr lemman may theyr great foly here And tyll the yordan make them stande arere Cast on theyr hede, or tyll the stonys fle They nat depart, but couet there styll to be But yet more ouer these Folys ar so vnwyse That in colde wynter they vse the same madnes Whan all the howsys ar lade with snowe and yse O mad men amasyd vnstabyll and wytles What pleasour take ye in this your folysshenes What ioy haue ye to wander thus by nyght Saue that yll doers alway hate the lyght But folysshe youth doth nat alone this vse Come of lowe byrth and sympyll of degre But also statis them selfe therein abuse With some yonge folys of the spiritualte The folysshe pype without all grauyte Doth eche degre call to this frantyke game The darkenes of nyght expellyth fere of shame One barkyth another bletyth lyke a shepe Some rore, some countre, some theyr balades fayne Another from syngynge gyueth hym to wepe Whan his souerayne lady hath of hym dysdayne Or shyttyth hym out, and to be short and playne Who that of this sort best can play the knaue Lokyth of the other the maystery to haue The folysshe husbonde oft of this sort is one With wanton youth wandrynge by nyght also Leuynge his wyfe at home in bed alone And gyueth hyr occasyon often to mysdo So that whyle he after the owle doth go Fedynge the Couko, his wyfe hir tyme doth watche Receyuynge another whose egges she doth hatche. Therfore ye folys that knowe you of this sort To gyue occasyon of synne vnto your wyues And all other: I you pray and exort Of this your foly to amende your lyues For longe nyght watches seldome tymes thryues But if it be in labour: good to wyn Therfore kepe your dorys: els abyde within Thoughe I have touchyd of this enormyte In englysshe tunge: yet is it nat so vsed In this Royalme as it is beyonde the se Yet moche we vse whiche ought to be refusyd Of great nyght watchynge we may nat be excusyd But our watchynge is in drunken glotony More than in syngynge or other meledy