Gyue me your honde, farewell, and haue good daye.
DREDE.
Sodaynly, as he departed me fro,
Came pressynge in one in a wonder araye:
Er I was ware, behynde me he sayde, Bo! 500
Thenne I, astonyed of that sodeyne fraye,
Sterte all at ones, I lyked no thynge his playe;
For, yf I had not quyckely fledde the touche,
He had plucte oute the nobles of my pouche.
He was trussed in a garmente strayte: