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.