+Wytte.+ Nay by god not so hastie
A lytle whyle we wyll larye
Good euen syr to you mary
Dwell ye in this place? 620

+Remdi+ Nay good fellowe I dwel not heare
Wherefore doest thou chat inquire:
Woldest thou ought with any heare
Speake be not afryde

+Wyll.+ By God I would I had your gowne
And were a myle without the towne
Theron & woulde borowe a crowne
It is I that so sayde

+Wytte.+ Hew lookest thou one him halfe a scorne
I p=omise you he is a scant gentylman borne 630
What sstyest thou in his face

+Remdi+ For somwhat in his face I lok e
In dede his mastership standes a crooke
For false shrewes both of you I tooke
And chyldren that be past grace.

+Wyll.+ I wyll swere for hym, as tor this yeares twenty
that he hath ben euer as true as I
yet sometyme he will steale and make a lye
He is of my alyaunce.

+Remdi+ In good fayth the same thinke I 640