Please it your grace to take no dysdayne,
To shewe you playnly the trouth as I thynke.
Magn. Here is none forsyth whether you flete or synke.
Fel. From whens come you, syr, that no man lokyd
after?
Magn. Or who made you so bolde to interrupe my tale?
Fan. Nowe, benedicite, ye wene I were some hafter,
Or ellys some iangelynge Jacke of the vale; 260
Ye wene that I am dronken, bycause I loke pale.
Magn. Me semeth that ye haue dronken more than ye haue bled.