Cr. Con. Than wyll I say that thou haste no pere. 1210
Fan. Nowe, by the rode, and he wyll go nere.
Fol. Hem, Fansy! regardes, voyes.
Here Foly maketh semblaunt to take a lowse from Crafty Conueyaunce showlder.
Fan. What hast thou founde there?
Fol. By God, a lowse.
Cr. Con. By Cockes harte, I trowe thou lyste.
Fol. By the masse, a Spaynysshe moght with a gray lyste.
Fan. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Cr. Con. Cockes armes, it is not so, I trowe.