Nought, dear, nought. I give you leave, as ye require, To see the friends to whom is your desire. Go pay the reckoning with mine host of the Tree And on the morrow thine eme we shall go see Or thine other friends, as ye shall request. To this I am prest. EMMA Then straight am I dress’d To ask how it stands in our account And pay it all wholly. MOONEN So do, and the amount See that ye pay without question of the odd doit.— I shall get no loss from this exploit, ’Tis no harm to visit her eme, the priest. If I could catch him bare-breeched, at the least, And so have him wholly at my desire, I would shortly break the old shave-poll’s swire. Were he away, the lass were mine without fail. But my purpose is wholly without avail, Save only the Omnipotent Giveth thereto his full consent. ¶ How Emma and Moonen journeyed to Nimmegen. Thus Emma and Moonen journeyed to Nimmegen, where they be come on Procession Day, whereat Emma rejoiced exceedingly. And Moonen to her spake thus: Now, Emma, even as ye of me prayed, Hither our journey we have made To Nimmegen; and ’tis Procession Day. Here your aunt had her dwelling, as ye say. Will ye go see her? EMMA Yea, so much, mayhap; But for lodging I would not ask her, nor for a scrap To eat nor yet a drop to drink; Thereof I would not think, lest o’er me she skink The flood of her reproach, and entreat me once more Even so shamelessly as she hath done yore. ’Twas the foul and wicked words she spake Made me to these ill courses take, The which I still am in, alas! MOONEN I bethink me, my love and solace, That to go thither will little bestead. Know your aunt is three years dead. EMMA What say ye, dead? MOONEN Yea, it is so. EMMA How know ye that? MOONEN Enough, I know. EMMA ... This is not light to bear. MOONEN ’Tis e’en so. EMMA Stay, what do they there? Let us go look ere from hence we depart. See what a press of people forth doth start. Is it aught to see? Haste ye and enquire amain. MOONEN Nay, love, they will play somewhat on the pageant-wain. EMMA That do they every year on this day, And as I mind, “Maskeroon” is the play. Its goodly excellence is not lightly to be told, Mine eme each year failed not it to behold. Ah, Moonen, let us hear it. MOONEN ’Tis silly gabbling. Wherefore would ye give ear to such brabbling? Bah, go we to the roast meat and the wine. EMMA