Confesse the truth, as I shall aske, and cease a while to fable; 220
And for thy fault I promise the thy handling shalbe reasonable.
Hast thou not made a lie or two, to set these two by the eares?
Diccon. What if I have? five hundred such have I seene within these seven yeares:
I am sory for nothing else but that I see not the sport
Which was betwene them when they met, as they them selves report. 225
Bayly. The greatest thing—Master Rat, ye se how he is drest!
Diccon. What devil nede he be groping so depe, in Goodwife Chats hens nest?
Bayly. Yea, but it was thy drift to bring him into the briars.
Diccon. Gods bread! hath not such an old foole wit to save his eares?