He weeneth by flattering to please us again,
But he laboureth all in vain.

CHARITY.
Sir, I pray you me not spare,
For nothing I do care
That ye can do to me.

RIOT.
No, whoreson? sayest thou so?
Hold him, Pride, and let me go;
I shall set a pair of rings,
That shall set to his shins,
And that even anon.

PRIDE.
Hie thee apace and come again,
And bring with thee a good chain,
And hold him here still.

CHARITY.
Jesus, that was born of Mary mild,
From all evil he us shield,
And send you grace to amend,
Ere our life be at an end;
For I tell you truly,
That ye live full wickedly;
I pray God it amend!

RIOT.