D. Dough. Yes whether our maister speake earnest or borde.

M. Mery. For this lieth vpon his preferment in deede.

D. Dough. Oft is hee a wower, but neuer doth he speede.

M. Mery. But with whome is he nowe so sadly roundyng yond?

D. Dough. With Nobs nicebecetur miserere sonde.

[M.] Mery. God be at your wedding, be ye spedde alredie?

I did not suppose that your loue was so greedie,

I perceiue nowe ye haue chose of deuotion,

And ioy haue ye ladie of your promotion.

R. Royster. Tushe foole, thou art deceiued, this is not she.