Fan. Crossed! ye, checked out of consayte.
Court. Ab. Howe so?
Fan. By God, by a praty slyght,
As here after thou shalte knowe more:
But I must tary here; go thou before.
Court. Ab. With whom shall I there mete?
Fan. Crafty Conueyaunce standeth in the strete,
Euen of purpose for the same.
Court. Ab. Ye, but what shall I call my name? 970
Fan. Cockes harte, tourne thé, let me se thyne aray: