Mis. Sir, and ye will do mine advice,
Let us go straight to the Fleur de Lys;
There shall ye find a man will play at dice D1,v.
With you for an hundred pound.
Pros. What man is he?
Mis. Colhazard; came late from beyond the sea,
Ragged and torn, in a garded coat;
And, in his purse, never a groat;
And now he goeth like a lord!
Pros. I pray thee tell me at one word—
Is he a gentleman bore?
Envy. Tush! take no thought therefore!
For be he gentleman, knave, or boy,
If he come hither with trifle or a toy,
He can no money lack.
Pros. Now by the bread that God brake!
I think long till I him see!
Mirth! go before and ordain a good dish;
One of flesh and another of fish.
Envy. Nay, let all be flesh!
A young pullet, tender and nesh,
That never came on broach—have with thee or thou go!
Mis. What shall I have?
Envy. Four quarters of a knave,
Roasted upon a spit! [Exit Misrule.
Pros. Now, by my troth! and Colhazard will sit,
I will play as long as an hundred pound will last.