M. MERRY. God be at your wedding: be ye sped already? I did not suppose that your love was so greedy. I perceive now ye have chose of devotion; And joy have ye, lady, of your promotion! R. ROISTER. Tush, fool, thou art deceived, this is not she. M. MERRY. Well, mock[79] much of her, and keep her well, I 'vise ye. I will take no charge of such a fair piece keeping. M. MUMBL. What aileth this fellow? he driveth me to weeping. M. MERRY. What, weep on the wedding-day? be merry, woman: Though I say it, ye have chose a good gentleman. R. ROISTER. Kock's nowns,[80] what meanest thou, man? tut, a whistle. M. MERRY. Ah, sir, be good to her; she is but a gristle: Ah, sweet lamb and coney! R. ROISTER. Tut, thou art deceived. M. MERRY. Weep no more, lady, ye shall be well received. Up with some merry noise,[81] sirs, to bring home the bride! R. ROISTER. Gog's arms, knave, art thou mad? I tell thee thou art wide. M. MERRY. Then, ye intend by night to have her home brought. R. ROISTER. I tell thee, no. M. MERRY. How then? R. ROISTER. 'Tis neither meant ne thought. M. MERRY. What shall we then do with her? R. ROISTER. Ah, foolish harebrain, This is not she. M. MERRY. No, is [not]. Why, then, unsaid again! And what young girl is this with your maship so bold? R. ROISTER. A girl? M. MERRY. Yea, I daresay, scarce yet threescore year old. R. ROISTER. This same is the fair widow's nurse, of whom ye wot. M. MERRY. Is she but a nurse of a house? hence home, old trot! Hence at once! R. ROISTER. No, no. M. MERRY. What, an' please your maship, A nurse talk so homely with one of your worship? R. ROISTER. I will have it so; it is my pleasure and will. M. MERRY. Then I am content. Nurse, come again, tarry still. R. ROISTER. What, she will help forward this my suit, for her part. M. MERRY. Then is't mine own pigsny, and blessing on my heart! R. ROISTER. This is our best friend, man. M. MERRY. Then teach her what to say. M. MUMBL. I am taught already. M. MERRY. Then go, make no delay. R. ROISTER. Yet hark, one word in thine ear. M. MERRY. Back, sirs, from his tail! R. ROISTER. Back, villains; will ye be privy of my counsel? M. MERRY. Back, sirs! So. I told you afore ye would be shent. R. ROISTER. She shall have the first day a whole peck of argent. M. MUMBL. A peck! _Nomine Patris_, have ye so much spare? R. ROISTER. Yea, and a cart-load thereto, or else were it bare; Besides other moveables, household stuff and land. M. MUMBL. Have ye lands too? R. ROISTER. An hundred marks. M. MERRY. Yea, a thousand. M. MUMBL. And have ye cattle too? and sheep too? R. ROISTER. Yea, a few.