Hance. O, skon mester! ic heb hore bin this darten yeore.
Ic can skote de culverin, and ic can be de beare broer.
[A line (or lines) apparently missing here.
[Rem.] Trust see so provide that Wealth from you have I shall. D2,r.
Hance. Ic seg to you dat Wealth is lopen in an ander contry;
Wat hebegy dar brough forstan ye net, segt me.
Rem. I understand thee well; yet, thou liest, like a knave.
Wealth is here in England, and Wealth still I trust we shall have.
Hance. Ic ment no quad, ic love de English man, by min bere!
Cump by sent Katrin, and ic shal ye geven twe stope bere.
Rem. Get thee hence, drunken Fleming! thou shalt tarry no longer here.
Hance. Mot it net mare herebin woder sal ic gewest kiskin;
Ic wil to de kaizer gan, dar sall ic wal skinkin.
[And goeth.
Rem. Is he gone? I pray God the devil go with him!
Where is Wealth, Health, and Liberty? I would see them come in.