+M. Mery.+ The worst kitchen wench shall goe in ladies rayment. +M. Mumbl.+ Yea? +M. Mery.+ And the worst drudge in the house shal go better Than your mistresse doth now. +Mar.+ Then I trudge with your letter. +R. Royster.+ Now may I repose me: Custance is mine owne. Let vs sing and play homeward that it may be knowne. +M. Mery.+ But are you sure, that your letter is well enough? +R. Royster.+ I wrote it my selfe. +M. Mery.+ Then sing we to dinner. _Here they sing, and go out singing._ Actus. j. Scæna. v. +Christian Custance. Margerie Mumblecrust.+ +C. Custance.+ Who tooke thee thys letter Margerie Mumblecrust? +M. Mumbl.+ A lustie gay bacheler tooke it me of trust, And if ye seeke to him he will lowe your doing. +C. Custance.+ Yea, but where learned he that manner of wowing? +M. Mumbl.+ If to sue to hym, you will any paines take, He will haue you to his wife (he sayth) for my sake. +C. Custance.+ Some wise gentleman belike. I am bespoken: And I thought verily thys had bene some token From my dere spouse Gawin Goodluck, whom when him please God luckily sende home to both our heartes ease. +M. Mumbl.+ A ioyly man it is I wote well by report, And would haue you to him for marriage resort: Best open the writing, and see what it doth speake. +C. Custance.+ At thys time nourse I will neither reade ne breake. +M. Mumbl.+ He promised to giue you a whole pecke of golde. +C. Custance.+ Perchaunce lacke of a pynte when it shall be all tolde. +M. Mumbl.+ I would take a gay riche husbande, and I were you. +C. Custance.+ In good sooth Madge, een so would I, if I were thou. But no more of this fond talke now, let vs go in, And see thou no more moue me folly to begin. Nor bring mee no mo letters for no mans pleasure, But thou know from whom. +M. Mumbl.+ I warrant ye shall be sure. Actus. ij. Scæna. j. +Dobinet Doughtie.+