Roister Doister | Page 9

wenche that ere I hearde, little mouse, May I
not reioyce that she shall dwell in my house?
+Tib. Talk.+ So sirrha, nowe this geare beginneth for to frame.
+M. Mumbl.+ Thanks to God, though your work stand stil, your tong is
not lame
+Tib. Talk.+ And though your teeth be gone, both so sharpe and so fine
Yet your tongue can renne on patins as well as mine.
+M. Mumbl.+ Ye were not for nought named Tyb Talke apace.
+Tib. Talk.+ Doth my talke grieue you? Alack, God saue your grace.
+M. Mumbl.+ I holde a grote ye will drinke anon for this geare.
+Tib. Talk.+ And I wyll pray you the stripes for me to beare.
+M. Mumbl.+ I holde a penny, ye will drink without a cup.
+Tib. Talk.+ Wherein so ere ye drinke, I wote ye drinke all vp.
+An. Alyface.+ By Cock and well sowed, my good Tibet Talke apace.
+Tib. Talk.+ And een as well knitte my nowne Annot Alyface.

+R. Royster.+ See what a sort she kepeth that must be my wife. Shall
not I when I haue hir, leade a merrie life?
+Tib. Talk.+ Welcome my good wenche, and sitte here by me iust.
+An. Alyface.+ And howe doth our old beldame here, Mage
Mumblecrust?
+Tib. Talk.+ Chyde, and finde faultes, and threaten to complaine.
+An. Alyface.+ To make vs poore girles shent to hir is small gaine.
+M. Mumbl.+ I dyd neyther chyde, nor complaine, nor threaten.
+R. Royster.+ It woulde grieue my heart to see one of them beaten.
+M. Mumbl.+ I dyd nothyng but byd hir worke and holde hir peace.
+Tib. Talk.+ So would I, if you coulde your clattering ceasse: But the
deuill can not make olde trotte holde hir tong.
+An. Alyface.+ Let all these matters passe, and we three sing a song,
So shall we pleasantly bothe the tyme beguile now, And eke dispatche
all our workes ere we can tell how.
+Tib. Talk.+ I shrew them that say nay, and that shall not be I.
+M. Mumbl.+ And I am well content.
+Tib. Talk.+ Sing on then by and by.
+R. Royster.+ And I will not away, but listen to their song, Yet
Merygreeke and my folkes tary very long.
+Tib+, +An+, and +Margerie+, doe singe here.
Pipe mery Annot. etc. Trilla, Trilla. Trillarie. Worke Tibet, worke
Annot, worke Margerie. Sewe Tibet, knitte Annot, spinne Margerie.
Let vs see who shall winne the victorie.

+Tib. Talk.+ This sleue is not willyng to be sewed I trowe, A small
thing might make me all in the grounde to throwe.
Then they sing agayne.
Pipe merrie Annot. etc. Trilla. Trilla. Trillarie. What Tibet, what Annot,
what Margerie. Ye sleepe, but we doe not, that shall we trie. Your
fingers be nombde, our worke will not lie.
+Tib. Talk.+ If ye doe so againe, well I would aduise you nay. In good
sooth one stoppe more, and I make holy day.
They singe the thirde tyme.
Pipe Mery Annot. etc. Trilla. Trilla. Trillarie. Nowe Tibbet, now Annot,
nowe Margerie. Nowe whippet apace for the maystrie, But it will not
be, our mouth is so drie.
+Tib. Talk.+ Ah, eche finger is a thombe to day me thinke, I care not to
let all alone, choose it swimme or sinke.
They sing the fourth tyme.
Pipe Mery Annot. etc. Trilla. Trilla. Trillarie. When Tibet, when Annot,
when Margerie. I will not, I can not, no more can I. Lette hir caste
downe hir vvorke. Then giue we all ouer, and there let it lye.
+Tib. Talk.+ There it lieth, the worste is but a curried cote, Tut I am
vsed therto, I care not a grote.
+An. Alyface.+ Haue we done singyng since? then will I in againe,
Here I founde you, and here I leaue both twaine. Exeat.
+M. Mumbl.+ And I will not be long after: Tib Talke apace.
+Tib. Talk.+ What is ye matter?
+M. Mumb.+ Yond stode a man al this space And hath hearde all that
euer we spake togyther.

+Tib. Talk.+ Mary the more loute he for his comming hither. And the
lesse good he can to listen maidens talke. I care not and I go byd him
hence for to walke: It were well done to knowe what he maketh here
away.
+R. Royster.+ Nowe myght I speake to them, if I wist what to say.
+M. Mumbl.+ Nay we will go both off, and see what he is.
+R. Royster.+ One that hath hearde all your talke and singyng ywis.
+Tib. Talk.+ The more to blame you, a good thriftie husbande Woulde
elsewhere haue had some better matters in hande.
+R. Royster.+ I dyd it for no harme, but for good loue I beare, To your
dame mistresse Custance, I did your talke