Onely upon a bare nay she saith it was not I.
Chat. No, mary, was it not indeede! ye shal here by this one thing:
This after noone a frend of mine for good wil gave me warning,
And bade me wel loke to my ruste,[730] and al my capons pennes,
For if I toke not better heede, a knave wold have my hennes. 45
Then I, to save my goods, toke so much pains as him to watch;
And as good fortune served me, it was my chaunce hym for to catch.
What strokes he bare away, or other what was his gaines,
I wot not, but sure I am he had something for his paines!
Bayly. Yet telles thou not who it was.