M. Mumble. A joyly man it is, I wot well by report,
And would have you to him for marriage resort;
Best open the writing, and see what it does speak.
C. Custance. At this time, nurse, I will neither read ne break.
M. Mumble. He promised to give you a whole peck of gold.
C. Custance. Perchance, lack of a pint when it shall be all told.
M. Mumble. I would take a gay rich husband, and I were you.
C. Custance. In good sooth, Madge, e’en so would I, if I were thou.
But no more of this fond talk now, let us go in,
And see thou no more move me folly to begin.