R. Royster. Now forth in ray sirs, and stoppe no more.
M. Mery. Now sainct George to borow, Drum dubbe a dubbe afore.
T. Trusty. What meane you to do sir, committe manslaughter.
R. Royster. To kyll fortie such, is a matter of laughter.
T. Trusty. And who is it sir, whome ye intende thus to spill?
R. Royster. Foolishe Custance here forceth me against my will.
T. Trusty. And is there no meane your extreme wrath to slake,
She shall some amendes vnto your good mashyp make.
R. Royster. I will none amendes.
T. Trusty. Is hir offence so sore?