+M. Mery.+ Yea malkyn, I warrant you as muche as they dare. And ye will not beleue what they say in the streete, When your mashyp passeth by all such as I meete, That sometimes I can scarce finde what aunswere to make. Who is this (sayth one) sir _Launcelot du lake_? Who is this, greate _Guy_ of Warwike, sayth an other? No (say I) it is the thirtenth _Hercules_ brother. Who is this? noble _Hector_ of _Troy_, sayth the thirde? No, but of the same nest (say I) it is a birde. Who is this? greate _Goliah_, _Sampson_, or _Colbrande_? No (say I) but it is a brute of the Alie lande. Who is this? greate _Alexander_? or _Charle le Maigne_? No, it is the tenth Worthie, say I to them agayne: I knowe not if I sayd well. +R. Royster.+ Yes for so I am. +M. Mery.+ Yea, for there were but nine worthies before ye came. To some others, the thirde _Cato_ I doe you call. And so as well as I can I aunswere them all. Sir I pray you, what lorde or great gentleman is this? Maister Ralph Roister Doister dame say I, ywis. O Lorde (sayth she than) what a goodly man it is, Woulde Christ I had such a husbande as he is. O Lorde (say some) that the sight of his face we lacke: It is inough for you (say I) to see his backe. His face is for ladies of high and noble parages. With whome he hardly scapeth great mariages. With muche more than this, and much otherwise. +R. Royster.+ I can thee thanke that thou canst suche answeres deuise: But I perceyue thou doste me throughly knowe. +M. Mery.+ I marke your maners for myne owne learnyng I trowe, But suche is your beautie, and suche are your actes, Suche is your personage, and suche are your factes, That all women faire and fowle, more and lesse, That eye you, they lubbe you, they talke of you doubtlesse, Your p[l]easant looke maketh them all merie, Ye passe not by, but they laugh till they be werie, Yea and money coulde I haue the truthe to tell, Of many, to bryng you that way where they dwell. +R. Royster.+ Merygreeke for this thy reporting well of mee: +M. Mery.+ What shoulde I else sir, it is my duetie pardee: +R. Royster.+ I promise thou shalt not lacke, while I haue a grote. +M. Mery.+ Faith sir, and I nere had more nede of a newe cote. +R. Royster.+ Thou shalte haue one to morowe, and golde for to spende. +M. Mery.+ Then I trust to bring the day to a good ende. For as for mine owne parte hauing money inowe, I could lyue onely with the remembrance of you. But nowe to your Widowe whome you loue so hotte. +R. Royster.+ By cocke thou sayest truthe, I had almost forgotte. +M. Mery.+ What if Christian Custance will not haue you what? +R. Royster.+ Haue me? yes I warrant you, neuer doubt of that, I knowe she loueth me, but she dare not speake. +M. Mery.+ In deede meete it were some body should it breake. +R. Royster.+ She looked on me twentie tymes yesternight, And laughed so. +M. Mery.+ That she coulde not sitte vpright, +R. Royster.+ No faith coulde she not. +M. Mery.+ No euen such a thing I cast.