[Old] Mer. What voice is that that calleth at our door?
Mist. Mer. You know me well enough, I am sure I have not been such a stranger to you.
Old Mer. And some they whistled, and some they sung, Hey down, down: and some did loudly say, ever as the Lord Barnets horn blew, Away Musgrave away.
Mist. Mer. You will not have us starve here, will you Master Merry-thought?
Jasp. Nay, good Sir be perswaded, she is my Mother: if her offences have been great against you, let your own love remember she is yours, and so forgive her.
Luce. Good master Merry-thought, let me intreat you, I will not be denied.
Mist. Mer. Why Master Merry-thought, will you be a vext thing still?
Old Mer. Woman I take you to my love again, but you shall sing before you enter: therefore dispatch your song, and so come in.
Mist. Mer. Well, you must have your Will when all's done, Mich. what song canst thou sing Boy?
Mich. I can sing none forsooth, but a Ladies Daughter of Paris properly.