MAR. Indeed, indeed, you do me wrong,
To let me cry, and call so long.
JEN. Forsooth, I straw'd[278] the dining bowers,
And smooth'd the walks with herbs and flowers.
The yeomen's tables I have spread,
Dress'd salts, laid trenchers, set on bread.
Nay, all is well, I warrant you.
MAR. You are not well, I promise you,
Your 'foresleeves are not pinn'd; fie, fie!
And all your head-gear stands awry.
Give me the flowers. Go in, for shame,
And quickly see you mend the same.
[Exit JENNY.
Enter SIR DONCASTER, PRIOR. MARIAN strewing flowers.
DON. How busy Mistress Marian is!
She thinks this is her day of bliss.
PRIOR. But it shall be the wofull'st day
That ever chanc'd her, if I may.
MAR. Why are you two thus in the air?
Your wounds are green. Good coz, have care.
PRIOR. Thanks for your kindness, gentle maid:
My cousin Robert us hath prayed
To help him in his business.
Enter FRIAR.