M. Mery. And shall we hence streight?

R. Royster. Yea.

M. Mery. Placebo dilexi. vt infra. [*]

Maister Doister Doister will streight go home and die.

R. Royster. Heigh how, alas, the pangs of death my hearte do breake.

M. Mery. Holde your peace for shame sir, a dead man may not speake.

Nequando: What mourners and what torches shall we haue?

R. Royster. None.

M. Mery. Dirige. He will go darklyng to his graue,

Neque, lux, neque crux, neque mourners, neque clinke,