Ogy. Yis, yt I haue, in a certayne Inne within thys thre dayes, ther I fownde a certayne man yt was bestraght of hys wytte, whiche shuld haue be bownde, but thys woden relyque was put vnder hys nekke pryuyly, wherapon he gad a sadde and sownd sleape, but in the mornynge he was hole and sownde as euer he was before.

Me. It was nat the phrenysy, but the dronkê dropsye, sleape ys wontyd to be a good medicyne for ye dysease.

Ogy. Whã you be dysposyd to skoffe Menedemus, yt ys best yt you gette a nother maner of gestynge stokke than thys, for I tell you it is nother good nor holsome, to bowrde so wt sayntes. For thys same mã dyd say, that a woman dyd apere to hym, in hys sleape, after a maruelouse fashion, which shold gyue hym a cuppe to drynke apon.

Mene. I suppose it was

Elleborum wyll restore a man to hys senses that hathe lost thê.

Elleborû.

Ogy. That is vncertayne, but I kno well ye mã was well broght into hys mynde ayen.

Me. Dyd you other come or goo by Sante Thomas of Cantorbury that good archebishope.