Shall we ever have this worke, thou knave? 120
Johan. What! wyfe, how sayst thou? was it well gest of me
That thou woldest be come home in safete,
As sone as I had kendled a fyre?
Come warme the, swete Tyb, I the requyre.
Tyb. O, Johan Johan, I am afrayd, by this lyght, 125
That I shalbe sore syk this nyght.
Johan [aside]. By cokkis soule, nowe, I dare lay a swan
That she comes nowe streyght fro Syr Johan;
For ever whan she hath fatched of hym a lyk,