But I told him that morning was a great mist,
That what horse it was I ne wist:
Also I said, that in my head I had the megrin,
That made me dazzle so in mine eyen,
That I might not well see.
And thus he departed shortly from me.

By this time a third party has approached; for an impatient inquiry for
Hick Scorner immediately brings that redoubtable gentleman upon the
stage, possibly slightly the worse for liquor, seeing that his first
words are those of one on a ship at sea. They may, however, indicate
merely a seafaring man, for he has been a great traveller in his time,
'in France, Ireland, and in Spain, Portingal, Sevile, also in Almaine,'
and many places more, even as far as 'the land of Rumbelow, three mile
out of hell'. He is acquainted with the names of many vessels, of which
'the _Anne_ of Fowey, the _Star_ of Saltash, with the _Jesus_ of
Plymouth' are but a few. With something of a chuckle he adds that a
fleet of these ships bound for Ireland with a crowded company of all the
godly persons of England--'piteous people, that be of sin destroyers',
'mourners for sin, with lamentation', and 'good rich men that helpeth
folk out of prison'--has been wrecked on a quicksand and the whole
company drowned. Next he has an ill-sounding report of his own last
voyage to give. When that is finished Imagination proposes an
adjournment for pleasures more active than conversation, where purses
may be had for the asking.

Every man bear his dagger naked in his hand,
And if we meet a true man, make him stand,
Or else that he bear a stripe;
If that he struggle, and make any work,