Of and against our yong Maister, Master William.

Know ye not our yong Maister William?
O t's a wilde youth, and neuer will be tame
But for his nature, Lord! its too too kinde,
And with it still doth beare an Empralls minde.
Tush, all our land-lords' ladds would vooles be vound
To master William if he had his londe.
But the meane while pray God zend him good luck;
For yet good (Gelman) hee's as wilde's a buck
This heares Mas William, sith its spoken so;
(For what craft is there to the clouted sho?)
That he may heare it; Then forth-with he puts
His bands a kimbow, and so stiffly struts
As being proud to be esteemed wilde,
And thinkes it best becomes his fathers childe;
Mas William yet be wilde but for a spirt,
Least some too tame do cheat you to your shirt.