Fol. Nay, torde, take hym be tyme.
Fan. What callest thou thy dogge?
Fol. Tusshe, his name is Gryme.
Fan. Come, Gryme, come, Gryme! it is my praty dogges.
Fol. In faythe, there is not a better dogge for hogges,
Not from Anwyke vnto Aungey.
Fan. Ye, but trowest thou that he be not maungey?
Fol. No, by my trouthe, it is but the scurfe and the scabbe.
Fan. What, he hathe ben hurte with a stabbe?
Fol. Nay, in faythe, it was but a strype 1140