R. Royster. I wote not, but it made all my matter to haulte.
Scriuener. Howe say you, is this mine originall or no?
R. Royster. The selfe same that I wrote out of, so mote I go.
Scriuener. Loke you on your owne fist, and I will looke on this,
And let this man be iudge whether I reade amisse.
To myne owne dere coney birde, sweete heart, and
Good mistresse Custance, present these by and by.
How now? doth not this superscription agree?
R. Royster. Reade that is within, and there ye shall the fault see.
Scriuener. Sweete mistresse, where as I loue you, nothing at all