[Your] lothesum lere to loke on, lyke a gresyd bote dothe schyne.
Ye cappyd Cayface copious, your paltoke on your pate,
Thow ye prate lyke prowde Pylate, be ware yet of chek mate.
Hole[552] ys your brow that ye brake with Deu[ra]ndall your awne sworde;
Why holde ye on yer cap, syr, then? your pardone ys expyryd:
Ye hobble very homly before the kynges borde; 10
Ye countyr vmwhyle to capcyously, and ar ye be dysiryd;
Your moth etyn mokkysh maneres, they be all to myryd.
Ye cappyd Cayface copyous, your paltoke on your pate,
Thow ye prate lyke prowde Pylate, be ware of cheke mate.