_M. Mery._ _Dirige._ He will go darklyng to his grave, _Neque, lux, neque crux, neque mourners, neque_ clinke, He will steale to heaven, unknowing to God I thinke. 60 _A porta inferi_, who shall your goodes possesse? _R. Royster._ Thou shall be my sectour,[491] and have all more and lesse. E i _M. Mery._ _Requiem æternam._ Now God reward your mastershyp. And I will crie halfepenie doale for your worshyp. Come forth sirs, heare the dolefull newes I shall you tell. _Evocat servos militis._ 65 Our good maister here will no longer with us dwell, But in spite of Custance, which hath hym weried, Let us see his mashyp solemnely buried. And while some piece of his soule is yet hym within, Some part of his funeralls let us here begin. 70 _Audiui vocem_, All men take heede by this one gentleman, Howe you sette your love upon an unkinde woman. For these women be all such madde pievishe elves, They will not be wonne except it please them selves. But in fayth Custance if ever ye come in hell, 75 Maister Roister Doister shall serve you as well. And will ye needes go from us thus in very deede? _R. Royster._ Yea in good sadnesse[!] _M. Mery._ Now Jesus Christ be your speede. Good night Roger olde knave, farewell Roger olde knave, Good night Roger[492] olde knave, knave knap. _ut infra._[493] Pray for the late maister Roister Doisters soule, 81 And come forth parish Clarke, let the passing bell toll. Pray for your mayster sirs, and for hym ring a peale. _Ad servos militis._ He was your right good maister while he was in heale. _Qui Lazarum_. 85 _R. Royster._ Heigh how. _M. Mery._ Dead men go not so fast _In Paradisum_. 87 _R. Royster._ Heihow. _M. Mery._ Soft, heare what I have cast.[494] _R. Royster._ I will heare nothing, I am past. _M. Mery._ Whough, wellaway. Ye may tarie one houre, and heare what I shall say, 90 Ye were best sir for a while to revive againe, And quite them er ye go. _R. Royster._ Trowest thou so? _M. Mery._ Ye plain. _R. Royster._ How may I revive being nowe so farre past? _M. Mery._ I will rubbe your temples, and fette you againe at last. _R. Royster._ It will not be possible. 95 _M. Mery_ [_rubbing R.'s temples roughly_]. Yes for twentie pounde. _R. Royster._ Armes[!][495] what dost thou?