Titi. And ever ye did, me keep now your silence!
Not a word! I charge you, pain of forty pence!
A praty game shall be showed you or ye go hence.
Ye may hear him snore; he is sad a-sleep.
Whist! peace! the devil is dead! I shall go rond in his ear:
Alas, Mankind, alas! Mercy [has] stolen a mare;
He is run away from his master, there wot no man where;
Moreover, he stale both a horse and a neat.
But yet, I heard say, he brake his neck as he rode in France;
But I think he rideth over the gallows, to learn for to dance,
Because of his theft: that is his governance.
Trust no more on him; he is a marred man!
Mickle sorrow with thy spade beforn thou hast wrought;
Arise, and ask mercy of New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought!
They come! Advise thee for the best; let their good will be sought;
And thy own wife brethel, and take thee a leman!
Farewell, everyone! for I have done my game;
For I have brought Mankind to mischief and to shame.
[Titivillus goes out.
Man. Whoop! ho! Mercy hath broken his neckercher, a vows!
Or he hangeth by the neck high up on the gallows.
Adieu, fair master! I will haste me to the ale-house,
And speak with New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought;
A[nd] get me a leman with a smattering face.
[Enter New Guise.]
New G. Make space! for Cock's body sacred, make space!
Aha! well! on! run! God give him evil grace!
We were near saint Patrick's way, by Him that me bought!
I was twitched by the neck; the game was begun;
A grace was; the halter brast asunder—Ecce signum!—
The half is about my neck: we had a near run!
"Beware!" quod the good wife when she smote off her husband's head—"beware!"
Mischief is a convict, for he could his neck-verse—
My body gave a swing when I hung upon the casse.
Alas! who will hang such a likely man, and a fierce,
For stealing of an horse? I pray God give him care!
Do way this halter! what [the] devil doth Mankind here? with sorrow!—
Alas, how my neck is sore, I make avow!
M[an]. Ye be welcome, New Guise! Sir! what cheer with you?
New G. Well, sir! I have no cause to mourn.
M[an]. What was there about your neck? so God you amend!
New G. In faith! saint Audrey's holy bend;
I have a little dishele, as it please God to send,
With a running ringworm.
[Enter Now-a-days.]