R. Royster. Soft. Now forward set. [march against the house.]
C. Custance [entering:]. What businesse have we here? out[!] alas, alas! [retires for fun.]
R. Royster. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.
Dydst thou see that Merygreeke? how afrayde she was?
Dydst thou see how she fledde apace out of my sight? [G iv]
Ah good sweete Custance I pitie hir by this light. 45
M. Mery. That tender heart of yours wyll marre altogether,
Thus will ye be turned with waggyng of a fether.
R. Royster. On sirs, keepe your ray.
M. Mery. On forth, while this geare is hot.