If any thyng wrang be,
Soyne is she wroth.
Tunc perget ad vxorem.
22. God spede, dere wife, how fayre ye? 190
Vxor. Now, as euer myght I thryfe, the wars I thee see.
Do tell me belife where has thou thus long be?
To dede may we dryfe, or lif, for the,
For want.
When we swete or swynk, 195
Thou dos what thou thynk,