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That I am shamed to turne again to Albyon |
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And when this message thou hast done soberly |
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Tell hym thy name is Polysy. |
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Diuisiō |
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¶What the deuill menest thou by that |
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Shuld I decemble from a wyld cat |
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That euer before thys haue bled patchyng |
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And now to play the wise man, & leaue scratching. |
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Iniuri. |
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¶Why horson it is a poynt of hye madnes |
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For a tyme to desemble sadnes, |
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And though thou be all redy as mad as a harte |
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yet will I make thee madder then thou arte |
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Diuisiō |
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¶Well say on then. |
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Iniuri. |
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¶Mary then euen thus I say |
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When that to Albion thou hast taken thy way |
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And done thy message as I thee bad |
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He wyll for a while be pensife and sad |
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And hee will aske thyne aduise |
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Then must thou dissemble thy self wyse. |
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Diuisiō. |
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¶I make god a bowe that is unpossyable |
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That I and wysdome shuld knyt in one quyneble |
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Or in my braine to print such abusyon |
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That wysdome and I shuld be in one conclusion |
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For when I was yonge my mother charged mee |
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And said beware wyt son though thou neuer thee. |
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Iniuri. |
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¶& I am not disposed to chaunge much your lyue |
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But here me speke an end though you neuer thriue |
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Diuisiō. |
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¶Well say on then and tell mee what counsell |
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I shall giue Albion that may sound well |
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To both our profits that wolde I know. |
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Iniuri. |
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¶Thou shalt teche him a wronge crosse row |
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And tell him best it is after thine aduise |
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With myrth and Prodigalitie him to exercyse |
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And take of his owne good while he maye |
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Lest all at last be brybid awaye |
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for
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