¶or good
Launcelet Iobbe, v
se your legges, take the
start, runne a-
550way, my con
science
sayes no; take heede hone
st
Launcelet, take
¶heede hone
st
Iobbe, or as afore-
saide hone
st
Launcelet Iobbe, doe
¶not runne,
scorne running with thy heeles; well, the mo
st cora-
¶gious fiend bids me packe,
fia sayes the fiend, away
sayes the fiend,
¶for the heauens rou
se vp a braue minde
sayes the fiend, and runne;
555well, my con
science hanging about the necke of my heart,
sayes
¶very wi
sely to mee: my hone
st friend
Launcelet beeing an hone
st
¶mans
sonne, or rather an hone
st womans
sonne, for indeede my
¶Father did
something
smacke,
something grow to; he had a kinde
¶of ta
st; well, my con
science
sayes
Launcelet bouge not, bouge
sayes
560the fiend, bouge not
sayes my con
science, con
science
say I you
¶coun
saile wel, fiend
say I you coun
saile well, to be ruld by my con-
¶science, I
should
stay with the Iewe my Mai
ster, (who God ble
sse
¶the marke) is a kinde of deuill; and to runne away from the Iewe I
¶should be ruled by the fiend, who
sauing your reuerence is the de-
565uill him
selfe: certainely the Iewe is the very deuill incarnation, and
¶in my con
science, my con
science is but a kinde of hard con
sci-
¶ence, to offer to coun
saile mee to
stay with the Iewe; the fiend
¶giues the more friendly coun
saile: I will runne fiend, my heeles
¶are at your commaundement, I will runne.
570Enter old Gobbo with a basket.
¶Gobbo. Mai
ster young-man, you I pray you, which is the way
¶Launcelet. O heauens, this is my true begotten Father, who be-
¶ing more then
sand blinde, high grauell blinde, knowes me not, I
575will try confu
sions with him.
¶Gobbo. Mai
ster young Gentleman, I pray you which is the way
¶Launcelet. Turne vp on your right hand at the next turning,
¶but at the next turning of all on your left; marry at the very next
580turning turne of no hand, but turne downe indirectly to the Iewes
¶Gobbo. Be Gods
sonties twill be a hard way to hit, can you tell