Peace, man, thou talkest lewdly, And of thy living, I reed,[148] amend thee.
Avaunt, caitiff, dost thou _thou_ me! I am come of good kin, I tell thee! My mother was a lady of the stews' blood born, And (knight of the halter) my father ware an horn; Therefore I take it in full great scorn, That thou shouldest thus check me.
Abide, fellow, thou hast little courtesy, Thou shalt be charmed, ere thou hence pass, For thou troubled Pity, and laid on him felony: Where is Imagination, thy fellow that was?
Nay, nay; thy great words may not help thee, Fro us thou shalt not escape.
Make room, sirs, that I may break his pate; I will not be taken for them both.
Thou shalt abide, whether thou be lief or loth; Therefore, good son, listen unto me, And mark these words that I do tell thee: Thou hast followed thine own will many a day, And lived in sin without amendment; Therefore in thy conceit essay To axe God mercy, and keep His commandment, Then on thee He wilt have pity, And bring thee to heaven that joyful city.
What, whoreson? Will ye have me now a fool? Nay, yet had I liever be captain of Calais; For, and I should do after your school, To learn to patter to make me peevish, Yet had I liever look with a face full thievish: And therefore, prate no lenger here, Lest my knave's fist hit you under the ear. What, ye daws, would ye reed me For to lese my pleasure in youth and jollity, To bass and kiss my sweet _trully mully_, As Jane, Kate, Bess, and Sybil? I would that hell were full of such prims, Then would I renne thither on my pins, As fast as I might go.
Why, sir, wilt thou not love virtue, And forsake thy sin for the love of God Almighty?
What God Almighty, by God's fast at Salisbury, And I trow Easter-day fell on Whitsunday that year, There were five score save an hundred in my company, And at petty Judas we made royal cheer, There had we good ale of Michaelmas brewing; There heaven-high leaping and springing, And thus did I Leap out of Bordeaux unto Canterbury, Almost ten mile between.
Freewill, forsake all this world wilfully here, And change by time; thou oughtest to stand in fear; For fortune will turn her wheel so swift, That clean fro thy wealth she will thee lift.
What, lift me, who? and Imagination were here now, I-wis with his fist he would all-to clout you: Hence, whoreson, tarry no lenger here; For by Saint Pintle the apostle I swear, That I will drive you both home, And yet I was never wont to fight alone: Alas, that I had not one to bold[149] me, Then you should see me play the man shamefully; Alas, it would do me good to fight; How say you, lords, shall I smite? Have among you, by this light: Hence, whoresons, and home at once, Or with my weapon I shall break your bones. Avaunt, you knave: walk, by my counsel.