A new Interlude called Thersytes ¶ This Interlude Following Doth Declare how that the greatest boesters are not the greatest doers. ¶ The names of the players Thersites A boster. Mulciber A smith. Mater A mother. Miles A knight. Telemachus A child. Thersites cometh in first having a club upon his neck Have in a ruffler forth of the greek land Called Thersites, if ye will me know aback, give me room, in my way do ye not stand For if ye do, I will soon lay you low In Homer of my acts ye have red I trow Neither Agamenon nor Ulysses, I spared to check They could not bring me to be at their beck Of late from the siege of Troy I returned Where all my harness except this club I lost In an old house there it was quite burned While I was preparing victuals for the host I must needs get me new, what so everit cost I Will go seek adventures, for I cannot be idle I will hamper some of the knaves in a bridle It grieveth me to hear how the knaves do brag But by supreme jupiter, when I am harnessed well I shall make the dasters to run in to a bag To hide them fro me, as from the devil of hell I doubt not but hereafter, of me ye shall hear tell How I have made the knaves for to play couch quail But now to the shop of Mulciber, to go I will not fail Mulciber must have a shop made in the place and Thersites cometh before it saying a loud Mulciber, whom the poets doth call the god of fire Smith unto jupiter king over all Come forth, of thy office I the desire and grant me my petiction, I ask a thing but small I will none of thy lightning, that thou art wont to make for the god's supernal for ire when they do shake With which they thrust the giants down to hell That were at a convention heaven to buy and sell But I would have some help of Lemnos and Ilua That of their steel, by thy craft, condatur nuhi galea. Mulciber. ¶ What fellow Thersites, do ye speak latin now? Nay, then farewell, I make god a vow I do not you understand, no latin is in my palet And then he must do as he would go away. Thersites. I say abide good Mulciber, I pray thou make me a salad Mulciber. ¶ Why Thersites hast thou any wit in thy head? wouldest thou have a salad now, all the herbs are dead Beside that it is not meet for a smith gather herbs and sallettes to meddle with Go get the to my lover venus She hath sallettes enough for all us I eat none such sallettes for now I wax old and for my stomach they are very could Thersites. ¶ Now I pray to jupiter that thou die a cuckold I mean a salad with which men do fight Mulciber. ¶ It is a small tasting of a man's might That he should for any matter Fight with a few herbs in a platter No great laud should follow that victory Thersites. ¶ Gods passion Mulciber where is thy wit & memory I would have a salad made of steel Mulciber. ¶ Why sir▪ in your stomach long you shall it feel For steel is hard for to digest Thersites. ¶ Man's bones and sides he is worse than a be'st I would have a salad to were on my head Which under my chin with a thong red buckled shall be Dost thou yet perceive me Mulciber. ¶ your mind now I see Why thou peevish lad Art thou almost mad Or well in thy wit Get the a wallette Would thou have a sallette What wouldest thou do with it Thersites. ¶ I pray the good Mulciber make no more bones But let me have a salad made at ones. Mulciber. ¶ I must do somewhat for this knave What manner of fallet sir would ye have. Thersites. ¶ I would have such a one that neither might nor main should pierce it thorough, or part it in twain Which neither gonst one, nor sharp spear Should be able other to hurt or tear I would have it also for to save my head if jupiter himself would have me dead And if he in a fume, would cast at me his fire This salad I would have to keep me from his ire. Mulciber. ¶ I perceive your mind. ye shall find me kind I will for you prepare And then he goeth in to his shop, and maketh a salad for him at the last he saith. Here Thersites do this salad wear And on thy head it bear And none shall work the care Then Mulciber goeth into his shop, until he is called again. Thersites. ¶ Now would I not fear with any bull to fight Or with a raumpinge lion neither by day nor night O What great strength is in my body so lusty Which for lack of exercise, is now almost rusty Hercules in comparison to me was but a boy When the bandog Cerberus from hell he bore away When he killed the lions, hydra, and the bear so wild Compare him to me and he was but a child Why Samson I say, hast thou no more wit wouldest thou be as strong as I? come suck thy mother's tytte Ween you that David that little elfish boy Should with his sling have take my life away Nay iwis goliath, for all his five stones I would have quashed his little boyish bones O how it would do my heart much good To see some of the giants before noah's flood I would make the knaves to cryecreke Or else with my club their brains I will break But Mulciber, yet I have not with the do My head is armed, my neck I would have to And also my shoulders with some good habergyn That the devil if he shoot at me could not enter in For I am determined great battle to make Except my fumishenes, by some means may assake. Mulciber. ¶ Bokell on this habergyn as fast as thou can And fear for the meeting of neither beast nor man if it were possible for one too shoot an oak This habergyn will defend thee from the stroke Let them throw millstones at the as thick as hail yet the to kill they shall their purpose fail if Maluerne hills should on thy shoulders light They shall not hurt thee, nor suppress thy might If Beves of Hampton, Colburne and Guy Will the assay, set not by them a fly To be brief, this habergyn shall the save Both by land and water, now play the lusty knave Than he goeth in to his shop again Thersites. ¶ When I consider my shoulders that so broad be When the other parts of my body I do behold I verily think that none in chrystente With me to medele dare be so bold Now have at the lions on cotsolde I will neither spare for heat nor for cold Where art thou king Arthur, & the knights of the round table Come, bring forth your horses out of the stable Lo with me to meet they be not able By the mass they had rather were a babble Where art thou Gavin the courteous and Cay the crabbed Here be a couple of knights cowardish and scabbed Appear in thy likeness sir Libeus disconius If thou wilt have my club light onthy hedibus Lo ye may see he heareth not the face With me to try a blow in this place How syrray, approthe sir Lancelot de lake What? run ye away and for fear quake Now he that did the a knight make Thought never that thou any battle shouldest take if thou wilt not come thyself, some other of thy fellows send To battle I provoke them, themself let them defend To, for all the good that ever they see They will not once set hand to fight with me O good lord how broad is my breast And strong with all for hole is my chest He that should meddle with me shall have shrewd rest Behold you my hands, my legs and my feet Every part is strong proportionable and meet Think you that I am not feared in field and street Yes yes god wot, they give me the wall Or else with my club, I make them to fall Back knaves I say to them, then for fear they quake And take me then to the tavern and good cheer me make The proctor and his men I made to run their ways And some went to hide them in broken heys I tell you at a word I set not a turd By none of them all Early and late I will walk And London streets stalk Spite of them great and small For I think verily That none in heaven so high Nor yet in hell so low While I have this club in my hand Can be able me to withstand Or me to overthrow But Mulciber, yet I must the desire To make me briggen irons for mine arms And then I will love the as mine own sire For without them, I can not be safe from all harms Those once had, I will not set a straw by all the world, for than I will by awe Have all my mind, or else by the holy rood I will make them think, the devil carrieth them to the wood if no man will with me battle take A viage to hell quickly I will make. And there I will beat the devil and his dame And bring the souls away, I fully intend the same After that in hell I have ruffled so Sreyghte to old purgatory will I go I will clean that so purge round about That we shall need no pardons to help them out if I have not fight enough this ways I will climb to heaven and fet away Peter's keys I will keep them myself, and let in a great rout What should such a fisher keep good fellows out Mulciber. ¶ Have here Thersites briggen irons bright and fear thou no man manly to fight Though he be stronger than Hercules or Samson Be thou priest and bold to set him upon Nother Amazon nor xerxes with their hole rabble the to assail shall find it profitable I warrant the they will i'll fro thy face as doth an Hare from the dogs in a chase Would not thy black and rusty grim beard Now thou art so armed, make any man afeard Surely if jupiter did see the in this gear He would run away and hide him for fear He would think that Typheous the giant were alive And his brother Enceladus, again with him to strive If that Mars of battle the god stout and bold In this array should chance the to behold He would yield up his sword unto the And god of battle (he would say) thou shouldest be Now far thou well go the world through And seek adventurus thou art man good enough. Thersites. ¶ Mulciber, while the stars shall shine in the sky And Phaeton's horses with the sons charet shall fly While the morning shall go before none And cause the darkennesse to vanish away soon While that the cat shall love well milk And while that women shallove to go in silk While beggars have lice And cockneys are nice While pardoners can lie Merchants can by And children cry While all these last and more Which I keep in store I do me faithfully bind Thy kindness to bear in mind but yet Mulciber one thing I ask more Haste thou ever a sword now in store? I would have such a one that would cut stones And pair a great oak down at once That were a sword lo, even for the nonce. Mulciber. ¶ Truly I have such a one in my shop that will pair iron as it were a rope have, here it is, gird it to thy side Now far thou well, jupiter be thy guide Thersites. ¶ gramercy Mulciber with my hole heart give me thy hand and let us depart Mulciber goeth in to his shop again, and Thersites saith forth Now I go hence, and put myself in press I will seek adventures, yea and that I will not cease If there be any present here this night that will take upon them with me to fight Let them come quickly, and the battle shall be pyghte Where is Cacus that knave? not worth a groat that was wont to blow clouds out of his throat Which stolen Hercules kine and hid them in his cave Come hither Cacus, thou lubber and false knave I will teach all wretches by the to beware If thou come hither I trap the in a snare thou shalt have knocked bread and ill fare how say you good godfather that look so stolen ye seem a man to be borne in the vale Dare ye adventure with me a stripe or two Go coward go hide the as thou wast wont to do What a sort of dasterdes have we hear None of you to battle with me dare appear What say you heart of gold, of countenance so demure? Will you fight with me? no, I am right sure Fie blush not woman, I will do you no harm Except I had you sooner to keep my back warm Alas little pums why are ye so sore afraid? I pray you show how long it is? sense ye were a maid Tell me in mine ear, sirs, she hath me told That gone was her mydenhead, at thrustene year old By'r lady she was loath to keep it to long And I were a maid again, now may be here song Do after my connsel of maidens the hole bevye Quickly red your maydehed, for they are vengeance heavy Well, let all go, why? will none come in With me to fight that I may pair his skin The matter cometh in. Mater ¶ What say you my son will ye fight? god it defend For what cause to war do you now pretend Will ye commit to battles dangerous your life that is to me so precious. Thersites. ¶ I will go, I will go. stop not my way Hold me not good mother I heartily you pray If there be any lions, or other wild be'st That will not suffer the husband man in rest I will go seeche them and bid them to afeest They shall abye bitterly the coming of such a gest I will search for them both in bush and shrub And lay on a load with this lusty club Mater. ¶ O my sweet son, I am thy mother Wilt thou kill me and thou hast none other Thersites. ¶ No mother no, I am not of such iniquity That I will defile my hands upon the. But be content mother, for I will not rest Till I have fought with some man or wild beast Truly my son if that ye take this way This shall be the conclusion, mark what I shall say Other I will drown myself for sorrow And feed fishes with my body before to morrow Or with a sharp sword, surely I will me kill Now thou mayst save me, if it be thy will I will also cut my paps away That gave the suck so many a day And so in all the world it shall be known That by my own son I was overthrown Therefore if my life be to the pleasant That which I desire good son do me grant Thersites ¶ Mother thou spendest thy wind but in waste The gods of battle her fury on me hath cast I am fully fixed battle for to taste O how many to death I shall drive in haste I will ruffle this club about my head Or else I pray god I never die in my bed There shall never a stroke be strooken with my hand But they shall think that jupiter doth thunder in the land Mater. ¶ My own sweet son I kneeling on my knee And both my hands holding up to the Desire the to cease and no battle make Call to the patience and Better ways take Thersites. ¶ tush mother, I am deaf I will the not hear No no, if jupiter here himself now were And all the gods, and juno his wife And loving Minerva that abhorreth all strife if all these I say, would desire me to be content They did their wind but in vain spent I will have battle in wails or in kent and some of the kuaves I will all to rend where is the valiant knight sir Isenbrase? Appear sir I pray you, dare ye not show your face where is Robin john and little hood approach hither quickly if ye think it good I will teach such outlaws with Christ'S curses How they take hereafter away abbots purses why will no adventure appear in this place where is Hercules with his great maze where is Buspris, that fed his horses Full like a tyrant, with dead men's corpses Come any of you both And I make an oath That yer I eat any bread I will drive a wain ye for need twain Between your body and your head Thus passeth my brains will none take the pains To try with me a blow? O what a fellow am I whom every man doth fly That doth me but once know Mater. ¶ Son all do you fear That be present here They will not with you fight you, as you be worthy Have now the victory without tasting of your might Here is none I trow that proffereth you a blow Man woman nor child Do not set your mind To fight with the wind be not so mad nor wild Thersites. ¶ I say arise who so ever will fight I am to battle here ready dyghte Come hither other swain or knight Let me see who dare present him to my sight Here with my club ready I stand if any will come to take them in hand Mater. ¶ There is no hope left in my breast To bring my son unto better rest He will do nothing at my request He regardeth me no more than a best I see no remedy, but still I will pray To god, my son to guide in his way That he may have a prasperous iourning And to be save at his returning Son, god above grant this my oration That when in battle thou shalt have concertation with your enemies, other fare or near No wound in them nor in you may appear So that ye neither kill nor be killed Thersites ¶ Mother thy petition I pray god be fulfilled For then no knaves blood shall be spilled Fellows keep my counsel, by the mass I do but crack I will be gentle enough and no busenesse make But yet I will make her believe that I am a man think you that I will fight? no no but with the can Except I find my enemy on this wise that he be a sleep or else can not arise If his arms and his feet be not fast bound I will not proffer a stripe for a thousand pound Far well mother and tarry here no longer For after proves of chivalry I do both thirst & hunger I will hear the knaves as flat as a conger Then the mother goeth in the place which is prepareth for her. What how long shall I tarry? be your hearts in your hose will there none of you in battle me appose Come prove me why stand you so in doubt have you any wild blood, that ye would have let out A lack that a man's strength can not be knwen Because that he lacketh enemies to be overthrown Here a snail must appear unto him, and he must look fearfully upon the snail saying But what a monster do I see now Coming hitherward with an armed brow what is it? ah it is a sow No by god's body it is but a grestle And on the back it hath never a bristle It is not a cow, ah there I fail For then it should have a long tail. What the devil I was blind, it is but a snail I was never so afraid in east nor in south My heart at the first sight was at my mouth Mary sir fie, fie, fie, I do sweat for fear I thought I had craked but to timely here Hens thou be'st and pluck in thy horns Or I swear by him that crowned was with thorns I will make the drink worse than good ale in that corns Haste thou nothing else to do But come with horns and face me so How, how my servants, get you shield and spear And let us weary and kill this monster here here Miles cometh in. Miles. ¶ Is not this a worthy knight that with a snail dareth not fight Except he have his servants aid Is this the chaumpyon that maketh all men afraid I am a poor soldier come of late from Calais I trust or I go to debate some of his malice I will tarry my time tell I do see Betwixt him and the snail what the end will be Thersites. ¶ Why ye whoreson knaves, regard ye not my calling why do ye not come and with you weapons bring why shall this monster so escape killing No that he shall not and god be willing Miles. ¶ I promise you, this is as worthy a knight as ever shall breed out of a bottle bite I think he be Dares of whom Uirgyll doth write That would not let entellus alone But ever provoked and ever called on But yet at the last he took a fall And so within a while, I trow I make the shall Thersites. ¶ By God's passion knaves, if I come I will you fetter Regard ye my calling and crying no better why horesons I say, will ye not come By the mass the knaves be all from home They had better have fet me an etrande at Rome Miles. ¶ By my troth, I think that very scant This lubber dare adventure to fight with an ant Thersites. Well seeing my servants come to me will not I must take heed that this monster me spill not I will ioparde with it a joint And other with my club or my sweardes' point I will reach it such wounds As I would not have for. xl. M. pounds Pluck in thy horns thou unhappy beast what facest thou me? wilt not thou be in rest Why? wilt not thou thy horns in hold Thinkest thou that I am a cocklode God's arms the monster cometh toward me still Except I fight manfully, it will me surely kill Than he must sight against the snail with his club Miles. O jupiter Lord dost thou not see and hear How he feareth the snail as it were a bear Thersites. Well with my club I have had good-luck Now with my sword have at the a pluck And he must cast his club away. I will make the or I go, for to duck And thou were as tale a man as friar suck I say yet again thy horns in draw Or else I will make the to have wounds raw Art not thou a feared To have thy beard Pared with my sword Here he must fight then with his sword against the snail, and the snail draweth her horns in Ah well, now no more Thou mightest have done so before I laid at it so sore That it thought it should have be lore And it had not drawn in his horns again surely I would the monstet have slain But now farewell, I will work the no more pain Now my fume is paste And doth no longer last That I did to the monster cast Now in other countries both far and near more deeds of chyvaltye I will go inquire Miles. Thou needs not seek any further for ready I am here I will debate anon I trow thy bragging cheer Thersites. Now where is any more that will me assail I will turn him and toss him both top and tail if he be stronger than Samson was who with his bare hands killed lions apas Miles. What needeth this boast? I am here at hand That with the will fight keep the head and stand surely for all thy high words I will not fear To assay the a touch till some blood appear I will give the somewhat for the gift of a new year And he begynth to fight with him, but Thersites must ren away, and hide him behind his mother's back saying. Thersites. O mother mother I pray the me hide Throw some thing over me and cover me every side Mater. O my son what thing eldyth thee? Thersites Mother a thousand horsemen do persecute me Mater. Marry son than it was time to fly I blame the not then, though afraid thou be A deadly wound thou mightest there soon catch One against so many, is no indifferent match Thersites. No mother but if they had bend but ten to one I would not have avoided but set them upon But seeing they be so many I ran away Hide me mother hide me, I heartily the pray For if they come hither and here me find To their horses tails they will me bind And after that fashion hall me and kill me And though I were never so bold and stout To fight against so many, I should stand in doubt Miles. Thou that dost seek giants to conquer Come forth if thou dare, and in this place appear Fie for shame dost thou so soon take flight Come forth and show somewhat of thy might Thersiteses. Hide me mother, hide me, and never word say Miles. Thou old trot, sayst thou any man come this way well armed and weaponed and ready to fight Mater. ¶ No forsooth Master, there came none in my sight Miles. ¶ He did avoid in time, for without doubts I would have set on his back some clouts It I may take him I will make all slowches To beware by him, that they come not in my clouches Then he goeth out, and the mother saith Mater. ¶ Come forth my son, your enemy is gone Be not afraid for hurt thou canst have none Then he looketh about if he be gone or not, at the last he saith. Thersites. ¶ iwis thou diddest wisely who so ever thou be To tarry no longer to fight with me For with my club I would have broken thy skull if thou were as big as Hercules' bull why thou cowardly knave, no stronger than a duck Darest thou try masteries with me a pluck which fear neither giants nor jupiters' fire bolt Nor Beelzebub the master devil as ragged as a colt I would thou wouldst come hither once again I think thou hadst rather alive to be slain Come again and I swear by my mother's womb I will pull the in pieces no more than my thumb and thy brains abroad, I will so scatter That all knaves shall fear, against me to clatter Then cometh in Telemachus bringing a letter from his father Ulysses, and Thersites saith. what? little Telemachus what makest thou here among us? Telemachus. ¶ Sir my father Ulysses doth him commend To you most heartily, & here he hath you send Of his mind a letter which show you better Every thing shall Then I can make rehearsal Here he must deliver him the letter Thersites. ¶ Lo friends ye may see what great men write to me Here he must red the letter. As entirely as heart can think Or scrivener can write with yucke I send you loving greeting Thersytes mine own seating I am very sorry when I cast in memory The great unkindness And also the blindness That hath be in my breast Against you ever priest I have be prompt and diligent Ever to make you shent To appall your good name And To minish your fame In that I was to blame But well all this is gone And remedy there is none But only repentance Of all my old grievance with which I did you molest And gave you sorry rest The cause was thereof truly Nothing but very envy wherefore now gentle esquire forgive me I you desire And help I you beseech Telemachus to a leech That him may wisely charm From the worms that do him harm In that ye may do me pleasure For he is my chief treasure I have heard men say That come by the way That better charmer is no other than is your own dear mother I pray you of her obtain To charm away his pain Far ye well, and come to my house To drink wine and eat a piece of sowse And we will have minstrelsy that shall pipe hankin boby My wife penelobe Doth great you well by me writing at my house on Candelmasse day midsummer month, the calendars of may By me Ulissed being very glad That the victory of late of the monster ye had Ah syrraye quod he? how say you friends all Ulysses is glad for my favour to call well, though we oft have swerved And he small love deserved Yet I am well content seeing he doth repent To let old matters go And to take him no more so As I have do hither to For my mortal foe Come go with me Telemachus, I will the bring Unto my mother to have her cherminge I doubt not, but by that time that she hath done Thou shalt be the better seven years agone Then Thersytes goeth to his mother saying Mother Christ thee save and see Ulysses hath send his son to thee That thou shouldest him charm From the worms that him harm Mater. ¶ Son ye be wife keep ye warm why should I for Ulysses do That never was kind us to He was ready in war Ever thee, son, to mar Then had been all my joy Exiled cleave away Thersites. ¶ Well mother all that is past Wroth may not alway last And seeing we be mortal all Let not our wrath be immortal Mater Charm that charm will, he shall not be charmed of me Thersites. Charm or by the mass with my club I will charm the Mater. ¶ why son art thou so wicked to beat thy mother Thersites. ¶ ye that I will, by god's dear brother Charm old witch in the devils name Or I will send the to him, to be his dame Mater. ¶ Alas what a son have I That thus doth order me spitefully Cursed be the time that ever I him fed I would in my belly he had be dead Thersites. ¶ Cursest thou old whore? bless me again Or I will bless thee, that shall be to thy pain Then he must take her by the arms, and she crieth out as followeth. Mater. ¶ He will kill me He will spill me He will brose me He will lose me He will prick me He will stick me Thersites. The devil stick the old wytherde witch For I will stick neither thee, nor none such. But come of give me thy blessing again I say let me have it, or else certain With my club I will lay the on the brain Mater. Well seeing thou threatenest to me affliction Spite of my heart have now my benediction Now Christ's sweet blessing and mine Light above and beneath the body of thine And I beseech with all my devotion That thou mayst come to A man's promotion He that forgive Mary Mawdalene her sin Make the highest of all thy kin Thersites. ¶ In this words is double intelliment wouldst thou have me hanged mother veramente Mater. ¶ No son no, but too have you high In promotion, is my mind verily Thersites. ¶ Well then mother let all this go and charm this child that you is send to and look hereafter to curse ye be not greedy Curse me no more, I am cursed enough all ready Mater. ¶ Well son I will curse you no more Except ye provoke me to to sore But I marvel why ye do me move To do for Ulysses that doth not us love Thersites. ¶ Mother by his son he hath send me a letter promising hereafter to be to us better And you and I with my great club Must walk to him and eat a solybubbe and we shall make merry and sing tyrle on the bury With Simkyn sydnam sumner that killed a cat at comner There the trifling tabborer troubler of tunies Will pike Peter pybaker a pennyworth of prunes Nycholl never good a net and a night cap knit will for kit whose knee cawghte a knap David dowghtye dyghter of daties Gren with godfrey goodale will greatly at the gates Thom tombler of tewxbury turning at a trice will wipe wylliam waterman if he be not wise Simon sadler of sudeley that served the sow Hytte will Henrye heartless he hard not yet how jynkyn jaton that iabbed jolly jone grind will gromellede until he groan Proud perts pykethancke, that pykid pernels purse Cut will the cakes though Cate do cry and curse Rough Robin rover ruffling in right rate bald bernard brainless will beat and Benet bate foolish frederycke furburer of a fart ding daniel dainty to death will with a dart Mercolfe movylts moreninge for mad mary Tyncke will the tables though he there not tarry Andrew all knave alderman of Andwarpe Hoppe will with hollyhocks & hearken humfreys harp It is to to mother the pastime and good cheer That we shall see and have, when that we come there Wherefore gentle mother I the heartily pray That thou wilt charm for worms this pretty boy Mater. Well son, seeing the case and matter standeth so I am content all thy request to do Come hither pretty child I will the charm from the worms wild but first do thou me thy name tell Telemachus. ¶ I am called Telemachus there as I dwell Mater. ¶ Telemachus lie down upright on the ground And stir not once for a thousand pound Telemachus. ¶ I am ready here pressed To do all your request Then he must lay him down with his belly upward and she must bless him from above too beneath saying a feloweth. Mater. ¶ The cowherd of Comertowne with his crooked spade Cause from thee, the worms soon to vade And jolly jacke jumbler that juggleth with a horn Grant that thy worms soon be all to torn Good grandsire Abraham godmother to Eve Grant that this worms no longer this child grieve All the court of conscience in cockoldst ires Tynckers and tabberets tipplers taverners Tyttyfylles, tryfullers, turners and trumpers Tempter's, traitors, travailers and thumpers Thryftlesse, thievish, thick and thereto thin the malady of this worms cause for too blynne The virtue of the tail of Isaac's cow That before Adam in paradise did low Also the ioyste of Moses rod In the mount of calvary that spoke with God Facie ad faciem, turning tail to tail Cause all these worms quickly to fail The bottom of the ship of Noah And also the leg of the horse of Troe The piece of the tongue of Balaams' ass the chawbone of the Ox that at Christ's birth was the eye to the of the dog that went on pilgrimage with young Thobye, these worms soon may suage the butterfly of Bromemycham that was borne blind The blast of the bottle that blowed Aelous wind The buttock of the bitter bought at Buckyngame the body of the bear that with Bevis came the backster of Balockburye with her baking peel Child fro thy worms I pray, may soon the heel The tapper of tavyestocke and the tapster's pot The tooth of the tytmus, the turd of the goat In the tower of tenysballes tostyd by the fire the table of Tantalus turned trim in mire that tomb of Tom threadbare that thrusle tib through that smock Make all thy worms child, to come forth at thy dock Sem Cam and japhat and col the myllars mare the five stones of david: that made goliath stare the wing with which seit Mychaell did fly to his mount the counters wherewith cherubin, did cheristones count The hawk with which Issuerus killed she wild boar Help that these worms my child, hurt the no more the maw of the morecocke that made mawd to mow when martylmas at moreton morened for the snow the spear of spanish spylbery sprent with spiteful spots the lights of the Laverocke laid at London lots the shynbon of saint Samuel shining so as the sun Grant child of the worms that soon thy pains be done Mother bryce of oxford and great Gyb of hynxey Also maud of thrutton and mable of chartesey And all other witches that walk in dymminges dale Clytteringe and clattering there your pots with ale incline your ears, and hear this my petition and grant this child, of health to have fruition the blessing that Iorden to his Godson gave Light on my child and from the worms him save Now stand up little Telemachus anon I warrant the by to morrow, thy worms will be gone Telemachus. ¶ I thank you mother in my most heartily wise will ye sir to my father command me any service Thersites. ¶ No pretty boy, but do thou us two commend to thy father and mother, tell them that we intend Both my mother and I to see them shortly Telemachus ¶ Ye shall be heartily welcome to them I dare well say Far ye well, by your leave, now I will depart away Thersites. ¶ Son, give me thy hand, far well Mater. ¶ I pray god keep the from apparel Telemachus goeth out, and the mother sayeth. iwis it is a proper child and in behaviour nothing wild Ye may see what is good education I would every man after this fashion Had their children up brought then many of them would not have been so nonghte A child is better unborn than untaught Thersites. ¶ Ye say truth mother, well let all this go and make you ready Ulisses to go to with me anon, be ye so content Mater. ¶ I am well pleased to your will I assent For all though that I love him but very evil It is good to set a candle before the devil Of most part of great men I swear by this fire Light is the thank but heavy is the ire Far well son, I will go me to prepare Thersites. ¶ Mother God be with you and keep you from care The mother goeth out, and Thersites sayeth forth What somever I say sirs, I think ill might she care I care not if the old witch were dead It were an almoys deed to knock by'r in the head And say on the worms that she did die For there be many that my lands would buy By god's blessed brother If I were not seek of the mother this totheles trot keep the me hard And suffereth no money in my ward But by the blessed trinity If she will no sooner ded be I will with a coyshiou stop her breath till she have forgot new marketh heth Ill might I far If that I care Nyr to spare About the house she hoppeth and her nose oft droppeth When the wortes she choppeth When that she doth brew I may say to you I am ready to spew the drops to see down run By all christian men from her nose to her knen Fie God's body, it maketh me to spit to remember how that she doth sit By the fire brawling scratching and scralling and in every place Leyenge oysters apace She doth but lack shells the devil have they whit, else At night when to bed she goys and pluicketh of her hose She knappeth me in the nose with tip, tap Flyppe, flap that an ill hap Come to that tap that venteth so Where so ever she go So much she daily drinketh That her breath at both ends styncketh That a horsecombe and an halter Her soon up talter till I say david's psalter That shall be at nevermas Which never shall be, nor never was By this ten bones She served me once A touch for the nonce I was sick and lay in my bed She brought me a kerchyfe to wrap on my head And I pray God that I be dead If that I lie any whit when she was about the kerchief to knit Break did one of the forms feet that she did stand on And down fell she anon And forth withal As she did fall She girded out a fart That me made to start I think her buttocks did smart Except it bad be a mare in a cart I have not hard such a blast I cried and bid her hold fast with that she nothing aghast said to me that no woman in this land Could hold fast that which was not in her hand Now sirs, in that hole pitch and fire brand Of that bag so fusty So stolen and so musty So cankered and so rusty So stinking and so dusty God send her as much joy as my nose hath alway Of her unsavoury spice If that I be not wise and stop my nose quickly When she letteth go merely But let all this go, I had almost forget The knave that here yerewhyles did jet Before that Telemachus did come in I will go seeche him, I will not blin until that I have him Then so god save him I will so be knave him That I will make to rave him With this sword I will shave him And stripes when I have gave him Better I will deprave him That you shall know for a slave him Then Miles cometh in saying Miles. ¶ wilt thou so in deed? high the make good speed I am at hand here priest Put away tongue shaking and this foolish craking Let us try for the best Cowards make speak apace Srypes proveth man Have now at thy face Keep of if thou can And then he must strike at him, and Thersytes must run away and leave his club & sword behind. Why thou lubber runnest thou away and leavest thy sword and thy club thee behind Now this is a sure card, now I may well say That a coward craking here I did find Masters ye may see by this play in sight That great barking dogs, do not most bite And oft it is seen that the best men in the host Be not such, that use to brag most If ye will avoid the danger of confusion Print my words in heart and mark this conclusion Such gifts of god that ye excel in most Use them with soberness and yourself never bow Seek the laud of God in all that ye do So shall virtue and honour come you too But if you give your minds, to the sin of pride Uanisshe shall your virtue, your honour away will slide For pride is hated of God above And meekness soonest obtaineth his love to your rulers and parents, be you obedient Never transgressing their lawful commandment Be ye merry and joyful at board and at bed Imagine no traitourye against your prince and head Love God and fear him and after him your king Which is as victorious as any is living Pray for his grace, with hearts that doth not feign that long he may rule us without grief or pain beseech ye also that God may save his queen Lovely Lady jane, & the prince that he hath send them between to augment their joy and the commons felicity Far ye well sweet audience, god grant you all prosperity Amen. ¶ Imprinted at London, by john Tysdale and are to be sold at his shop in the upper end of Lombard street, in All-hallows church yard near unto grace church.