Roister Doister / Written, probably also represented, before 1553. Carefully edited from the unique copy, now at Eton College

by Nicholas Udall

Dydst thou see that Merygreeke? how afrayde she was?

Dydst thou see how she fledde apace out of my sight?

Ah good sweete Custance I pitie hir by this light.

M. Mery. That tender heart of yours wyll marre altogether,

Thus will ye be turned with waggyng of a fether.

R. Royster. On sirs, keepe your ray.

M. Mery. On forth, while this geare is hot

R. Royster. Soft, the Armes of Caleys, I haue one thing forgot.

M. Mery. What lacke we now?

R. Royster. Retire, or else we be all slain.