RAL.  My nomination Radulph is, or Ralph:  Vulgars corruptly use to call me Rafe.

FRIAR.  O foul corruption of base palliardize,[187]
When idiots, witless, travail to be wise. 
Age barbarous, times impious, men vicious!

    Able to upraise,
    Men dead many days,
    That wonted to praise
    The rhymes and the lays
    Of poets laureate: 
    Whose verse did decorate,
    And their lines ’lustrate
    Both prince and potentate. 
    These from their graves
    See asses and knaves,
    Base idiot slaves,
    With boastings and braves
    Offer to upfly
    To the heavens high,
    With vain foolery
    And rude ribaldry. 
    Some of them write
    Of beastly delight,
    Suffering their lines
    To flatter these times
    With pandarism base,
    And lust do uncase
    From the placket to the pap: 
    God send them ill-hap! 
    Some like quaint pedants,
    Good wit’s true recreants,
    Ye cannot beseech
    From pure Priscian speech. 
    Divers as nice,
    Like this odd vice,
    Are word-makers daily. 
    Others in courtesy,
    Whenever they meet ye,
    With new fashions greet ye: 
    Changing each congee,
    Sometime beneath knee,
    With, “Good sir, pardon me,”
    And much more foolery,
    Paltry and foppery,
    Dissembling knavery: 
    Hands sometime kissing,
    But honesty missing. 
    God give no blessing
    To such base counterfeiting.

LIT.  JOHN.  Stop, Master Skelton! whither will you run?

FRIAR.  God’s pity!  Sir John Eltham, Little John,
I had forgot myself.  But to our play. 
Come, goodman Fashions, let us go our way,
Unto this hanging business.  Would, for me,
Some rescue or reprieve might set them free.

[Exeunt FRIAR, RALPH.

ROB.  H. Heard’st thou not, Little John, the friar’s speech,
Wishing for rescue or a quick reprieve?

LIT.  JOHN.  He seems like a good fellow, my good lord.

ROB.  H. He’s a good fellow, John, upon my word. 
Lend me thy horn, and get thee in to Much,
And when I blow this horn, come both, and help me.

LIT.  JOHN.  Take heed, my lord:  that villain Warman knows you,
And ten to one he hath a writ against you.

ROB.  H. Fear not. 
Below the bridge a poor blind man doth dwell,
With him I will change my habit, and disguise: 
Only be ready when I call for ye;
For I will save their lives, if it may be.

LIT.  JOHN.  I will do what you would immediately.

    Enter WARMAN, SCARLET, and SCATHLOCK, bound;
    FRIAR TUCK as their confessor; officers with halberts.

WAR.  Master Friar, be brief; delay no time. 
Scarlet and Scathlock, never hope for life: 
Here is the place of execution,
And you must answer law for what is done.