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.