(For who, in pathes unknowne[°], one gate can keepe?)
Sometimes he smoothlie slideth doune[°] the hill;
Another while[°], the stones his feete doe kill;
In clammie waies he treaddeth[°] by and by,
And plasheth and sprayeth all that be him nye[°].
So fares this iollie rider[°] in his race,
Plunging and sousing forward in lyke[°] case,
He dasht, and spurted, and he plodded[°] foule,
God giue thee shame, thou blinde[°] mischapen owle!
Fy-fy, for grief: a ladies chamberlaine[°],