Fan. Nay, it is a farly fowle.
Court. Ab. Me thynke she frowneth and lokys sowre.
Fan. Torde, man, it is an hawke of the towre:
She is made for the malarde fat.
Court. Ab. Methynke she is well becked to catche a rat.
But nowe what tydynges can you tell, let se.
Fan. Mary, I am come for thé.
Court. Ab. For me?
Fan. Ye, for thé, so I say. 940
Court. Ab. Howe so? tell me, I thé pray.