Bayly. Yea, but a man in the darke, if[726] chaunces do wincke,
As soone he smites his father as any other man,
Because for lacke of light discerne him he ne can.
Might it not have ben your lucke with a spit to have ben slaine? 25
D. Rat. I think I am litle better, my scalpe is cloven to the braine.
If there be all the remedy, I know who beares the k[n]ockes.
Bayly. By my troth, and well worthy besides to kisse the stockes!
To come in on the backe side, when ye might go about!
I know non such, unles they long to have their braines knockt out. 30
D. Rat. Well, wil you be so good, sir, as talke with Dame Chat,