Whyche is this, that yt may please hym, for our sake, 830
To sende us wether close and temperate,
No sonne-shyne, no frost, nor no wynde to blow.
Then wolde we get[185] the stretes trym as a parate.[186]
Ye shold se how we wolde set our-selfe to show.
Mery-reporte. Jet where ye wyll, I swere by saynt Quintyne, 835
Ye passe them all, both in your owne conceyt and myne.
Gentylwoman. If we had wether to walke at our pleasure,
Our lyves wolde be mery out of measure.
One part of the day for our apparellynge