R. Royster. No, no.

M. Mery. No I know your wit.

I warrant it wel.

M. Mumbl. It shal be deliuered.

But if ye speede, shall I be considered?

M. Mery. Whough, dost thou doubt of that?

Madge. What shal I haue?

M. Mery. An hundred times more than thou canst deuise to craue.

M. Mumbl. Shall I haue some newe geare? for my olde is all spent.

M. Mery. The worst kitchen wench shall goe in ladies rayment.