But I woll not give for that boy a fly,
That hath not all times in store one good lie,
And cannot set a good face upon the same:
Therefore Saint George thee borrow, as it woll let him frame.
I woll jeopard a joint, be as be may,
I have had many like chances before this day;
But I promise you I do curstly fear;
For I feel a vengeable burning in my left ear;
And it hath been a saying of time long,
That sweet meat woll have sour sauce among;
And surely I shall have some ill hap,
For my hair standeth up under my cap.
I would knock, but I dare not, by our lady,
I fear hanging, whereunto no man is hasty.
But seeing there is no nother remedy,
Thus to stand any longer it is but folly.
[_Hic pulset ostium_.
They be so far within, they cannot hear--
JACK JUGGLER.
Soft thy knocking, saucy knave, what makest thou there?
JENKIN CAREAWAY.
What knave is that? he speaketh not to me, I trow,
And we meet, the one of us is like to have a blow!
For now that I am well chafed, and somewhat hot,
Twenty such could I hew as small as flesh to pot;
And surely, if I had a knife,
This knave should escape hardly with his life:
To teach him to ask of me any more,
What I make at my own master's door.
JACK JUGGLER.
But if thou come from that gate, thou knave,
I well fet thee by the sweet locks,[180] so God me save!
JENKIN CAREAWAY.
Woll the whoreson fight indeed, by mine honesty?
I know no quarrel he hath to me;
But I would I were within the house,
And then I would not set by him a louse;
For I fear and mistrust such quarreling thieves:
See, how he beginneth to strike up his sleeves!
JACK JUGGLER.
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