He that beateth me, by his armes,[355] shall well fynde,
That I will not be farre from him nor runne behinde.
M. Mery. That thing knowe all men ever since ye overthrewe,
The fellow of the Lion which Hercules slewe.[356]
But what is it than? 55
R. Royster. Of love I make my mone.
M. Mery. Ah this foolishe a[357] love, wilt neare let us alone?
But bicause ye were refused the last day,
Ye said ye woulde nere more be intangled that way:
"I would medle no more, since I fynde all so unkinde,"[358]