Your mistresse Custance and mine, must speake with your grace.
Tib. Talk. With me?
An. Alyface. Ye muste come in to hir out of all doutes.
Tib. Talk. And my work not half done? A mischief on all loutes.
Ex[eant] am[bae.]
R. Royster. Ah good sweet nourse[!]
M. Mumb. A good sweete gentleman[!]
M. Mumbl. Nay I can not tel sir, but what thing would you?
R. Royster. Howe dothe sweete Custance, my heart of gold, tell me[,] how? 125