HOw nowe fellowe Franticke, what all a mort? Doth this sad­nes become thy madnes? What though wee haue lost our way in the woodes, yet neuer hang the head, as though thou hadst no hope to liue till to morrow: for Fantasticke and I will warrant thy life to night for twenty in the hundred.

Anticke and Fantasticke, as I am frollicke franion, neuer in all my life was I so dead slaine. What? to loose our way in the woode, without either fire or candle so vncom­fortable? O coelum! O terra! O maria! O Neptune!

Why makes thou it so strange, seeing Cupid hath led our yong master to the faire La­dy and she is the only Saint that he hath sworne to serue.

What resteth then but wee com­mit him to his wench, and each of vs take his stand vp in a Tree, and sing out our ill fortune to the tune of O man in desperation.

Desperately spoken fellow Frollicke in the darke: but seeing it falles out thus, let vs re­hearse the old prouerb.

Hush a dogge in the wood, or a wooden dogge, O comfortable hearing! I had euen as liue the Chamberlaine of the white Horse had called me vp to bed.

Eyther hath this trotting Cur gone out of his cyrcuit, or els are we nere some village,

which should not be farre off, for I perceiue the glymring of a Gloworme, a Candle, or a Cats eye, my life for a halfe pennie. In the name of my own father, be thou Oxe or Asse that appea­rest, tell vs what thou art.

What am I? Why I am Clunch the Smith, what are you, what make you in my ter­ritories [Page] at this time of the night?

What doe we make dost thou aske? why we make faces for feare: such as if thy mortall eyes could behold, would make thee water the long seames of thy side slops, Smith.

And in faith Sir vnlesse your hospitalitie doe releeue vs, wee are like to wander with a sorrowfull hey ho, among the owlets, & Hob­goblins of the Forrest: good Vulcan, for Cupids sake that hath cousned vs all: befriend vs as thou maiest, and commaund vs howsoeuer, wheresoeuer, whensoeuer, in whatsoeuer, for e­uer and euer.

Well Masters it seemes to mee you haue lost your waie in the wood: in conside­ration whereof, if you will goe with Clunch to his Cottage, you shall haue house roome, and a good fire to sit by, althogh we haue no bedding to put you in.

O blessed Smith, O bountifull Clunch.

For your further intertainment, it shall be as it may be, so and so.

Hearke this is Ball my Dogge that bids you all welcome in his own language, come take heed for stumbling on thethreshold, open dore Madge take in guests.

Welcome Clunch & good fellowes al that come with my good mā for my good mans sake [Page] come on sit downe here is a peece of cheese & a pudding of my owne making.

Thanks Gammer a good example for the wiues of our towne.

Gammer thou and thy good man sit louingly together, we come to chat and not to eate.

Well Masters if you will eate no­thing take away: Come, what doo we to passe away the time? Lay a crab in the fire to rost for Lambes-wooll; what shall wee haue a game at Trumpe or Ruffe to driue away the time, how say you?

This Smith leades a life as mer­rie as a King with Madge his wife; Syrrha Fro­licke, I am sure thou art not without some round or other, no doubt but Clunch can beare his part.

Els thinke you mee ill brought vp, so set to it when you will.

This sport dooes well: but me thinkes Gammer, a merry winters tale would driue a­way the time trimly, come I am sure you are not without a score.

I faith Gammer a tale of an howre long were as good as an howres sleepe.

Looke you Gammer, of the Gyant and the Kings Daughter, and I know not what, I haue seene the day when I was a litle one, you might haue drawne mee a mile after you with such a discourse.

Well, since you be so importu­nate, my good man shall fill the pot and get him to bed, they that ply their worke must keepe good howres, one of you goe lye with him, he is a cleane skind man I tell you, without either spauin or windgall, so I am content to driue a­way the time with an old wiues winters tale.

No better hay in Deuonshire, a my word Gammer, Ile be one of of your audience.

And I another thats flat.

Then must I to bed with the good man, Bonanox Gammer, God night Frolicke.

Come on my Lad, thou shalt take thy vnnaturall rest with me.

Yet this vantage shall we haue of them in the morning, to bee ready at the sight thereof extempore.

Nowe this bargaine my Masters must I make with you, that you will say hum & ha to my tale, so shall I know you are awake.

Content Gammer that will we doo.

Once vppon a time there was a King or a Lord, or a Duke that had a faire daugh­ter, the fairest that euer was; as white as snowe, and as redd as bloud: and once vppon a time his daughter was stollen away, and hee sent all his men to seeke out his daughter, and hee sent so long, that he sent all his men out of his Land.

Who drest his dinner then?

Nay either heare my tale, or kisse my taile.

Well sed, on with your tale Gammer.

O Lord I quite forgot, there was a Coniurer, and this Coniurer could doo anything, and hee turned himselfe into a great Dragon, and carried the Kinges Daughter away in his mouth to a Castle that hee made of stone, and there he kept hir I know not how long, till at last all the Kinges men went out so long, that hir two Brothers went to seeke hir. O I forget: she (he I would say) turned a proper yong man to a Beare in the night, and a man in the day, and keeps by a crosse that parts three seuerall waies, & he made his Lady run mad: gods me bones who comes here?

Soft Gammer, here some come to tell [Page] your tale for you.

Let them alone, let vs heare what they will say.

Now father God be your speed, What doo you gather there?

Hips and Hawes, and stickes and strawes, and thinges that I gather on the ground my sonne.

Hips and Hawes, and stickes and strawes, why is that all your foode father?

Yea sonne.

Father, here is an Almes pennie for mee, and if I speede in that I goe for, I will giue thee as good a Gowne of gray as euer thou diddest weare.

And Father here is another almes pennie for me, and if I speede in my iourney, I will giue thee a Palmers staffe of yuorie, and a scallop shell of beaten gold.

Was shee fayre?

I the fairest for white, and the pu­rest for redd, as the blood of the Deare, or the driuen snow:

Neighbour on nothing, but on the matter I so often mooued to you: if you do any thing for charity, helpe me; if for neighborhood or brotherhood, helpe me: neuer was one so combered as is poore Lampryscus: and to be­gin, I pray receiue this potte of Honny to mend [Page] your fare.

I am (as you knowe neigh­bour) a man vnmaried, and liued so vnquietly with my two wiues, that I keepe euery yeare holy the day wherein I buried thē both; the first was on saint Andrewes day; the other on saint Lukes.

And now neighbour, you of this country say, your custome is out: but on with your tale neighbour.

By my first wife, whose tongue wea­ried me aliue, and sounded in my eares like the clapper of a great Bell, whose talke was a conti­nuall torment to all that dwelt by her, or liued nigh her, you haue heard me say I had a hand­some daughter.

True neighbour.

Shee it is that afflictes me with her continuall clamoures, and hangs on me like a Burre: poore shee is, and proude shee is, as poore as a sheepe new shorne, and as proude of her hopes, as a Peacock of her taile well growne.

Well said Lampryscus, you speake it like an Englishman.

As curst as a waspe, and as frowarde as a childe new taken from the mothers teate, shee is to my age, as smoake to the eyes, or as vi­negar to the teeth.

Holily praised neighbour, as much for the next.

By my other wife I had a daughter, so hard fauoured, so foule and ill faced, that I thinke a groue full of golden trees; and the leaues of Rubies and Dyamonds, would not bee a dowrie aunswerable to her deformi­tie.

Well neighbour, nowe you haue spoke, heere me speake; send them to the Well for the water of life: there shall they finde their fortunes vnlooked for; Neighbour farewell.

Farewell and a thousand, and now goeth poore Lampryscus to put in execution this excellent counsell.

Why this goes rounde without a fid­ling stick; but doo you heare Gammer, was this the man that was a Beare in the night, and a man in the day?

I this is hee; and this man that came to him was a beggar, and dwelt vppon a greene. But soft, who comes here? O these are the haruest men; ten to one they sing a song of mowing.

Gammer, what is he?

O this is one that is going to the coniurer, let him alone, here what he sayes.

Now by Mars and Mercury, Iupiter and Ianus, Sol and Saturnus, Venus and Vesta, Pallas and Proserpina, and by the honor of my house Polimackeroeplacydus, it is a wonder to see what this loue will make silly fellowes aduen­ture, euen in the wane of their wits, and infansie of their discretion. Alas my friend what fortune calles thee foorth to seeke thy fortune among brasen gates, inchanted towers, fire and Brim­stone, thunder and lightning. Beautie I tell thee is peerelesse, and she precious whom thou af­fectest: do off these desires good countriman, good friend runne away from thy selfe, and so soone as thou canst, forget her; whom none must inherit but he that can monsters tame, la­boures atchiue, riddles absolue, loose inchant­ments, murther magicke, and kill coniuring: and that is the great and mighty Huanebango.

Harke you sir, harke you; First know I haue here the flurting feather, and haue giuen the Parish the start for the long stocke: Nowe sir if it bee no more but running through a little lightning and thunder, and riddle me riddle me whats this, Ile haue the wench from the Con­iurer if he were ten Coniurers.

I haue abandoned the Court and ho­nourable company, to doo my deuoyre against this sore Sorcerer and mighty Magitian: if this Ladie be so faire as she is said to bee, she is mine, she is mine, Meus, mea, meum, in contemptum omnium Grammaticorum.

O falsum Latinum! the faire maide is minum, cum apurtinantibus gibletes and all.

If shee bee mine, as I assure my selfe the heauens will doo somewhat to reward my worthines; shee shall bee allied to none of the meanest gods; but bee inuested in the most fa­mous stocke of Huanebango Polimackeroeplaci­dus, my Grandfather: my father Pergopolyneo: my mother, Dyonora de Sardynya: famouslie descended.

Doo you heare sir; had not you a Cosen, that was called Gustecerydis?

Indeede I had a Cosen, that somtime followed the Court infortunately, and his name Bustegustecerydis.

O Lord I know him well: hee is the [Page] knight of the neates feete.

O he lou'd no Capon better, he hath oftentimes deceiued his boy of his dinner, that was his fault good Bustegustecerydis.

Come shall we goe along? Soft, here is an olde man at the Crosse, let vs aske him the way thither. Ho, you Gaffer, I pray you tell where the wise man the Coniurer dwells?

Where that earthly Goddesse kee­peth hir abode; the commander of my thougts, and faire Mistres of my heart.

Faire inough, and farre inough from thy fingering sonne.

I will followe my Fortune after mine owne fancie, and doo according to mine owne discretion.

Yet giue some thing to an old man before you goe.

Father mee thinkes a peece of this Cake might serue your turne.

Yea sonne.

Huanabango giueth no Cakes for Almes, aske of them that giue giftes for poore Beggars. Faire Lady, if thou wert once shri­ned in this bosome, I would buckler thee hara­tantara.

Father doo you see this man, you litle thinke heele run a mile or two for such a Cake, [Page] or passe for a pudding, I tell you father hee has kept such a begging of mee for a peece of this Cake, whoo he comes vppon me with a super­fantiall substance, and the foyson of the earth, that I know not what he meanes: If hee came to me thus, and said, my friend Booby or so, why I could spare him a peece with all my heart; but when he tells me how God hath enriched mee aboue other fellowes with a Cake: why hee makes me blinde and deafe at once: Yet father heere is a peece of Cake for you as harde as the world goes.

Farewell father, farewell; for I must make hast after my two hand sword that is gone before.

At the foote of the Rocke for run­ning water, and gathering rootes for your din­ner sir.

Ah Delya, fairer art thou than the run­ning water, yet harder farre than steele or Ada­mant.

Will it please you to sit downe sir.

I Delya, sit & aske me what thou wilt, thou shalt haue it brought into thy lappe.

Then I pray you sir let mee haue the best meate from the king of Englands table, and the best wine in all France, brought in by the ve­riest knaue in all Spaine.

Delya I am glad to see you so pleasant, [Page] well sit thee downe.

Then I pray ye sir Frier tell me before you goe, which is the most greediest English­man?

The miserable and most couetous Vsurer.

You may be ashamed, you whor­son scald Sexton and Churchwarden, if you had any shame in those shamelesse faces of yours, to let a poore man lie so long aboue ground vnbu­ried. A rot on you all, that haue no more com­passion of a good fellow when he is gone.

What would you haue vs to burie him, and to aunswere it our selues to the par­rishe?

Parish me no parishes, pay me my fees, and let the rest runne on in the quarters ac­counts, and put it downe for one of your good deedes a Gods name, for I am not one that cu­riously stands vpon merits.

You whoreson sodden headed sheepes-face, shall a good fellow do lesse seruice and more honestie to the parish, & will you not when he is dead let him haue Christmas buriall.

Peace Corebus, assure as Iack was Iack, the frollickst frannion amongst you, and I VViggen his sweete sworne brother, Iack shall haue his funerals, or some of them shall lie on Gods deare earth for it, thats once.

VViggen I hope thou wilt do no more then thou darst aunswer.

Sir, sir, dare or dare not, more or lesse, aunswer or not aunswer, do this, or haue this.

Helpe, helpe, helpe, VViggen sets vpon the parish with a Pike staffe.

Hould thy hands good fellow.

Can you blame him sir, if he take Iacks part against this shake rotten parish that will not burie Iack.

Why what was that Iack?

Who Iack sir, who our Iack sir? as good a fellow as euer troade vppon Neats lea­ther.

Looke you sir, he gaue foure score and nineteene mourning gownes to the parish when he died, and because he would not make them vp a full hundred, they would not bury him; was not this good dealing?

Oh Lord sir how he lies, he was not worth a halfe penny, and drunke out euery penny: and nowe his fellowes, his drunken companions, would haue vs to burie him at the [Page] charge of the parish, and we make many such matches, we may pull downe the steeple, sell the Belles, and thatche the chauncell: he shall lie a­boue ground till he daunce a galliard about the churchyard for Steeuen Loache.

Sic argumentaris domine Loache; and we make many such matches, we may pull downe the steeple, sell the Belles, and thatche the chauncell: in good time sir, and hang your selues in the Bell ropes when you haue done, Domine oponens praepono tibi hanc questionem, whether will you haue the ground broken, or your pates broken: first, for one of them shall be done presently, and to begin mine, ile seale it vpon your cockescome.

Hould thy hands, I pray thee good fellow be not too hastie.

You Capons face, we shall haue you turnd out of the parish one of these dayes, with neuer a tatter to your arse, then you are in worse taking then Iack.

Faith and he is bad enough: this fel­low does but the part of a friend, to seeke to bu­rie his friend; how much will burie him?

Faith, about some fifteene or six­teene shillings will bestow him honestly.

I euen there abouts sir.

Heere hould it then, and I haue left me but one poore three halfe pence; now do I [Page] remember the wordes the old man spake at the crosse; bestowe all thou hast, and this is all, till dead mens bones comes at thy call, heare holde it, and so farewell.

God, and all good, bee with you sir; naie you cormorants, ile bestowe one peale of Iack at mine owne proper costs and charges.

You may thanke God the long staffe and the bilbowe blade, crost not your cockes-combe; well weele to the church stile, and haue a pot, and so tryll lyll.

Come lets go.

But harke you gammer, me thinkes this Iack bore a great sway in the parish.

O this Iack was a maruelous fel­low, he was but a poore man, but very well be­loned: you shall see anon what this Iack will come to.

Soft, who haue wee heere? our amo­rous haruest starres.

I, I, let vs sit still and let them alone.

Soft, who haue we here?

O this is a cholerick gentleman, all you that loue your liues, keepe out of the smell of his two hand sworde: nowe goes he to the coniurer.

Me thinkes the Coniurer should put the foole into a Iugling boxe.

Who hawe maister Bango are you here? heare you, you had best sit downe heere, and beg an almes with me.

Hence base cullion, heere is he that commaundeth ingresse and egresse with his weapon, and will enter at his voluntary whoso­euer saith no.

No.

So with that they kist, and spoiled the edge of as good a two hand sword, as euer God put life in; now goes Corebus in, spight of the coniurer.

Away & touch it not, it is some thing, that my Lord hath hidden there. she couers it agen.

Now for a husband, house and home, God send a good one or none I pray God: My father hath sent me to the well for the water of life, and tells mee if I giue faire wordes I shall haue a husband.

But heere comes Celanta my sweete sister, Ile stand by and heare what she saies.

My father hath sent mee to the well for water, and he tells me if I speake faire, I shall haue a husband and none of the worst: Well though I am blacke I am sure all the world will not forsake mee, and as the olde prouerbe is though I am blacke, I am not the diuell.

Marrie gup with a murren, I knowe wherefore thou speakest that, but goe thy waies home as wise as thou camst, or Ile set thee home with a wanion.

I thinke this be the curstest queane in the world, you see what she is, a little faire, but as prowd as the diuell, and the veriest vixen that liues vpon Gods earth. Well Ile let hir alone, and goe home and get another Pitcher, and for all this get me to the well for water.

Once againe for a husband, & in faith Celanta I haue got the start of you; Belike hus­bands growe by the Well side; now my father sayes I must rule my tongue: why alas what am I then? a woman without a tongue, is as a soul­dier without his weapon; but ile haue my wa­ter and be gon.

Foe, what greasie groome haue wee here? Hee looks as though hee crept out of the backeside of the well; and speakes like a Drum perisht at the West end.

Whoope nowe I haue my dreame, did you neuer heare so great a wonder as this? Three blue beanes in a blue bladder, rattle blad­der rattle.

Ile nowe set my countenance and to hir in prose, it may be this rim ram ruffe, is too rude an incounter.

Let me faire Ladie if you be at leisure, reuell with your sweetnes, and raile vppon that cow­ardly Coniurer, that hath cast me or congealed mee rather into an vnkinde sleepe and polluted my Carcasse.

Laugh, laugh Zantyppa, thou hast thy fortune, a foole and a husbande vnder one.

Truely sweete heart as I seeme, a­bout some twenty yeares, the very Aprill of mine age.

Why what a prating Asse is this?

By gogs bones thou art a flouting knaue, Hir Corall lippes, hir crimson chinne: ka wil­shaw.

True my owne and my owne because mine, & mine because mine ha ha: Aboue a thousand pounds in possibilitie, and things fit­ting [Page] thy desire in possession.

The Sott thinkes I aske of his landes, Lobb be your comfort, and Cuckold bee your destenie: Heare you sir; and if you will haue vs, you had best say so betime.

True sweete heart and will royallize thy progeny with my petigree.

You are well ouertaken sir.

Who's that?

You are heartily well met sir.

Forbeare I say, who is that which pin­cheth mee?

Trusting in God good Master Eume­nides, that you are in so good health as all your friendes were at the making hereof: God giue you God morrowe sir, lacke you not a neate handsome and cleanly yong Lad, about the age of fifteene or sixteene yeares, that can runne [Page] by your horse, and for a neede make your Ma­stershippes shooes as blacke as incke, howe say you sir.

Alasse pretty Lad, I know not how to keepe my selfe, and much lesse a seruant, my pretty boy, my state is so bad.

Content your selfe, you shall not bee so ill a Master but ile bee as bad a seruant: Tut sir I know you though you know not me; Are not you the man sir, denie it if you can sir, that came from a strange place in the land of Catita, where Iacke a napes flies with his taile in his mouth, to seeke out a Ladie as white as snowe, and as redd as blood; ha, ha, haue I toucht you now.

Tut are not you the man sir, denie it if you can sir, that gaue all the money you had to the burying of a poore man, and but one three-halfe-pence left in your pursse: Content you sir, Ile serue you that is flat.

Well my Lad since thou art so impor­nate, I am content to entertaine thee, not as a seruant; but a copartner in my iourney. But whither shall we goe for I haue not any money more than one bare three halfe-pence.

Well Master content your selfe, for if my diuination bee not out, that shall bee [Page] spent at the next Inne or alehouse we come too: for maister I knowe you are passing hungrie; therefore ile go before and prouide dinner vn­till that you come, no doubt but youle come faire and softly after.

I, go before, ile follow thee.

But doo you heare maister, doo you know my name?

No I promise thee not yet.

Why I am Iack.

Iack, why be it so then.

How say you sir, doo you please to sit downe?

Hostes I thanke you, I haue no great stomack.

Pray sir, what is the reason your mai­ster is so strange, doth not this meate please him.

Yes Hostes, but it is my maisters fashi­on to pay before hee eates, therefore a recko­ning good hostesse.

Marry shall you sir presently.

Why Iack what doost thou meane, thou knowest I haue not any money: therefore sweete Iack tell me what shall I doo.

Well maister looke in your pursse.

Why faith it is a follie, for I haue no money.

Why looke you maister, doo so much for me.

Alas Iack my pursse is full of money.

Alas, maister, does that worde belong to this accident? why me thinkes I should haue seene you cast away your cloake, and in a bra­uado daunced a galliard round about the cham­ber; why maister, your man can teach you more wit than this, come hostis, cheere vp my maister.

You are heartily welcome: and if it please you to eate of a fat Capon, a fairer birde, a finer birde, a sweeter birde, a crisper birde, a neater birde, your worship neuer eate off.

Thankes my fine eloquent hostesse.

But heare you maister, one worde by the way, are you content I shall be halfes in all you get in your iourney?

I am Iack, here is my hand.

Enough maister, I aske no more.

Come Hostesse receiue your money, and I thanke you for my good entertainment.

You are heartily welcome sir.

Come Iack whether go we now?

Mary maister to the coniurers presently.

Content Iack: Hostis farewell.

Come my ducke come: I haue now [Page] got a wise, thou art faire, art thou not?

My Corebus the fairest aliue, make no doubt of that.

Come wench, are we almost at the wel.

I Corebus we are almost at the Well now, ile go fetch some water: sit downe while I dip my pitcher in.

Oh see Corebus I haue combd a great deale of golde into may lap, and a great deale of corne.

Well said wench, now we shall haue iust enough, God send vs coiners to coine our golde: but come shall we go home sweet heart?

Go along Iack, ile follow thee, Iack, they say it is good to go crosse legged, and say his prayers backward: how saiest thou?

Tut neuer feare maister, let me alone, heere sit you still, speake not a word. And be­cause you shall not be intised with his inchan­ting speeches; with this same wooll ile stop your eares: and so maister sit still, for I must to the Coniurer.

Oh Sir are you gon: now I hope we shall haue some other coile. Now maister how like you this; the Coniurer hee is dead, and vowes neuer to trouble vs more. Now get you to your faire Lady, and see what you can doo with her: Alas he heareth me not all this while; but I will helpe that.

How now Iack, what news?

Heere maister, take this sword and dig with it, at the foote of this hill.

How now Iack, what is this?

Maister, without this the Coniurer could do nothing, and so long as this light lasts, so long doth his arte indure, and this being out, then doth his arte decay.

Why then Iack I will soone put out this light.

I maister, how?

Why with a stone ile breake the glasse, and then blowe it out.

No maister you may as soone breake the Smiths Anfill, as this little vyoll; nor the big­gest blast that euer Boreas blew, cannot blowe out this little light; but she that is neither maide, [Page] wife, nor widowe. Maister, winde this horne; and see what will happen.

So maister, how like you this; this is she that ranne madding in the woods, his be­trothed loue that keepes the crosse, and nowe this light being out, all are restored to their for­mer libertie. And now maister to the Lady that you haue so long looked for.

Enough maister, she hath spoke, now I will leaue her with you.

Thankes gentle Madame: but heere comes Iack, thanke him, for he is the best friend that we haue.

How now Iack, what hast thou there?

Mary maister, the head of the coniurer.

Why Iack that is impossible, he was a young man.

Ah maister, so he deceiued them that beheld him: but hee was a miserable, old, and crooked man; though to each mans eye he see­med young and fresh, for maister; this Coniurer tooke the shape of the olde man that kept the crosse: and that olde man was in the likenesse of the Coniurer. But nowe maister winde your horne.

So maister, nowe yee thinke you haue done: but I must haue a saying to you; you know you and I were partners, I to haue halfe in all you got.

Why so thou shalt Iack.

Why then maister draw your sworde, part your Lady, let mee haue halfe of her pre­sently.

Why I hope Iack thou doost but iest, I promist thee halfe I got, but not halfe my Lady.

But what else maister, haue you not gotten her, therefore deuide her straight, for I will haue halfe there is no remedie.

Well ere I will falsifie my worde vnto my friend, take her all, heere Iack ile giue her thee.

Nay neither more nor lesse Maister, but euen iust halfe.

Before I will falsifie my faith vnto my [Page] friend, I will diuide hir, Iacke thou shalt haue halfe.

Bee not so cruell vnto our sister gentle Knight.

O spare faire Delia shee deserues no death.

Content your selues, my word is past to him, therefore prepare thy selfe Delya for thou must die.

Then farewell worlde, adew Eume­nides.

Stay Master, it is sufficient I haue tride your constancie: Do you now remember since you paid for the burying of a poore fellow.

I very well Iacke.

Then Master thanke that good deed, for this good turne, and so God be with you all.

By the Mas sonne tis almost day, and my windowes shuts at the Cocks crow.

Doo you heare Gammer, mee thinkes this Iacke bore a great sway amongst them.

O man, this was the ghost of the poore man, that they kept such a coyle to burie, & that makes him to help the wandring knight so much: But come let vs in, we will haue a cup of ale and a tost this morning and so depart.

Then you haue made an end of your tale Gammer?

Yes faith: When this was done I tooke a peece of bread and cheese, and came my way, and so shall you haue too before you goe, to your breakefast.