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,