_Hostis_. Gossip, faith ile use a little of your counsel, but my husband
is so fat, I feare I shall never bring him to it.
_Grac_. Now, gentles, you that can, prepare a few teares to shed, for
now enters a sad sceane of sorrowe.
_Enter Fryer and Course_.
_Fryer_. Man is flesh and flesh is fraile,
The strongest man at length must faile;
Man is flesh and flesh is grasse;
Consuming time, as in a glasse,
Now is up and now is downe
And is not purchast by a Crowne;
Now seede, and now we are sowen,
Now we wither, now are mowen;
_Frater noster_ heere doth lye,
_In paupertate_ he did die,
And now is gone his _viam longam_
That leades unto his _requiem aeternam_;
But dying needie, poore and bare,
Wanting to discharge the Fryer,
Unto his grave hee's like to passe
Having neither Dirge nor Masse:
So set forward, let him goe,
_Et benedicamus Domino_.
_Phy_. And then to _Apollo_ hollo, trees, hollo.--Tapster a few more
cloathes to my feete.
_Omnes_. Oh heavens!
_Acut_. Gentles, keep your places, feare nothing; in the name of God,
what art thou?
_Phy_.
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