And see if she prepare not againe to fight.
M. Mery. What then? sainct George to borow, our Ladies knight.[584] 45
R. Royster. Slee else whom she will, by gog she shall not slee mee.
M. Mery. How then?
R. Royster. Rather than to be slaine, I will flee.
C. Custance. Too it againe, my knightesses, downe with them all.
R. Royster. Away, away, away, she will else kyll us all.
M. Mery. Nay sticke to it, like an hardie man and a tall. 50
R. Royster. Oh bones,[585] thou hittest me. Away, or else die we shall.
M. Mery. Away for the pashe of our sweete Lord Jesus Christ.