R. Royster. Rather than to be slaine, I will flee.
C. Custance. Too it againe, my knightesses, downe with them all.
R. Royster. Away, away, away, she will else kyll vs all.
M. Mery. Nay sticke to it, like an hardie man and a tall.
R. Royster. Oh bones, thou hittest me. Away, or else die we shall.
M. Mery. Away for the pashe of our sweete Lord Iesus Christ.
C. Custance. Away loute and lubber, or I shall be thy priest. Exeant om.
So this fielde is ours we haue driuen them all away.
Tib Talk. Thankes to God mistresse, ye haue had a faire day.
C. Custance. Well nowe goe ye in, and make your selfe some good cheere.