R. Royster. I will go home and die.
M. Mery. Then shall I bidde toll the bell?
R. Royster. No.
M. Mery. God have mercie on your soule, ah good gentleman,
That er ye shuld ths dye for an unkinde woman, 50
Will ye drinke once ere ye goe.
R. Royster. No, no, I will none.
M. Mery. How feele[489] your soule to God.
R. Royster. I am nigh gone.
M. Mery. And shall we hence streight?