_New G._ What a devil liketh thee to be of this disposition?
_Man._ I dreamt Mercy was hang[ed]: this was my vision; And that, to you three, I should have recourse and remotion. Now, I pray you, heartily, of your good will; I cry you mercy of all that I did amiss!
_Now._ [_Aside._] I say, New Guise, Nought! Titivillus made all this; As siker as God is in heaven, so it is!
_Nought._ Stand up on your feet! why stand ye so still?
_New G._ Master Mischief! we will you exhort, Mankind's name, in your book, for to report.
_Mis._ I will not so! I will set a court-- Ah! do it _[in] forma juris d'hasard_!
_Now._ Oyez! oyez! oyez! All manner of men, and common women, To the Court of Mischief either come or send; Mankind shall return, he is one of our men!
_Mis._ Nought! come forth! thou shall be steward.
_New G._ Master Mischief! his side-gown may be sold; He may have a jacket thereof, and money told.
_Man._ I will do for the best, so I have no cold. Hold! I pray you, and take it with you.
_Nought (scri[bit])._ And let me have it again in any wise.
_New G._ I promise you a fresh jacket after the new guise.
_Man._ Go! and do that longeth to your office; A[nd] spare that ye may!
_Nought._ Hold, Master Mischief, and read this!
_Mis._ Here is _blottibus in blottis,_ _Blottorum blottibus istis_: I beshrew your ears! a fair hand!
_Now._ Yea! it is a good running fist; Such an hand may not be missed! [_Goes out._
_Nought._ I should have done better, had I wist.
_Mis._ Take heed, sirs, it stand you on hand! _Curia tenta generalis_, In a place--there good ale is!-- _Anno regni regitalis_. _Edwardi millatene_, On yestern-day in Febru'ry--the year passeth fully-- As Nought hath written--here is our Tulli, _Anno regni regis nulli_.
_Now._ What ho, New Guise! thou makest much [tarrying]; That jacket shall not be worth a farthing.
_New. G._ Out of my way, sirs! for dread of fighting! Lo! here is a feat tail, light to leap about!
_Nought._ It is not shapen worth a morsel of bread; There is too much cloth; it weighs as any lead. I shall go and mend it; else I will lose my head-- Make space, sirs! let me go out!
_Mis._ Mankind, come hither! God send you the gout! Ye shall go to all the good fellows in the country about; Unto the good-wife when the good-man is out-- "I will," say ye!