By Gog's nowns, chad thought ich had been in my bed.
Chad dreamed such a dream, as thou wilt marvel to hear,
Me-thought I was drowned in a barrel of beer.
And by and by the barrel was turned to a ship,
Which me-thought the wind made nicely to skip.
And I did sail therein from Flanders to France:
At last ich was brought hither among a sort of knaves by chance.
New. Lo, Hance, here is Philip Fleming come now,
We will go drink together now, how say'st thou?
Hance. I pray thee, good Vilip, now lead me away: