_Diccon._ Many a myle have I walked, divers and sundry waies,
And many a good mans house have I bin at in my daies;
Many a gossips cup in my tyme have I tasted,
And many a broche[659] and spyt have I both turned and basted;
Many a peece of bacon have I had out of thir balkes, 5
In ronnyng over the countrey, with long and were walkes;
Yet came my foote never within those doore cheekes,
To seeke flesh or fysh, garlyke, onyons, or leeke[s],
That ever I saw a sorte[660] in such a plyght
As here within this house appereth to my syght. 10
There is howlynge and scowlyng, all cast in a dumpe,
With whewling and pewling, as though they had lost a trump. A ii b
Syghing and sobbing, they weepe and they wayle;
I marvell in my mynd what the devill they ayle.
The olde trot syts groning, with alas! and alas! 15
And Tib wringes her hands, and takes on in worse case.
With poore Cocke, theyr boye, they be dryven in such fyts,
I feare mee the folkes be not well in theyr wyts.
Aske them what they ayle, or who brought them in this staye,
They aunswer not at all, but "alacke!" and "welaway!" 20
Whan I saw it booted not, out at doores I hyed mee,
And caught a slyp of bacon, when I saw that none spyed mee,
Which I intend not far hence, unles my purpose fayle,
Shall serve for a shoinghorne to draw on two pots of ale.
The fyrst Acte. The second Sceane.