GWENTHIAN

Who calls Gwenthyan so great teale of time? Sir Owen gramarrye whee: Gwenthyan Mandage any, ac wellock en Thawen en ryn mogh. Terdawgh whee, Sir Owen Terdawgh whee. Rees tag them and preag them in pieces. What say you forsooth? you saucy knave, must her tell her once, and twice, and thrice, and four times, what to do? preag these wands. Griselda owe? owe? Griselda ? no, no, no, no. her shall not mag Gwenthian such ninny pobbie fool as Griselda, I say preage her wandes. Peat her cloag and parrels? fie, fie, fie, 'tis lie Sir Owen 'tis lie. Hang her self, owe, owe, owe, Gwenthyans to there husband is scawrne to say hang her self: hang her self? owe owe, owe owe. For her neg, is called repatoes, Gwenthian wear it here, is't not brave? Out you rascals, you prade and prade, isle prade your neaces. Is domineer now, you tear her ruffs and re patoes, you preake her ponds? I'll tear as good ponds, and better too, and better too. Send out the peggers into her Lady, go. Awl these fittels is made for Cozen Marquess : Sir Owen is gone to fedge him, but Sir owen has anger her Lady. Sir Owen has anger her Lady, and therefore her Lady is anger Sir Owen Nay I pray peggers be quiet, tag your meats, you have trinks enough I see, and get you home now good peggers. I thang you good peggers, would would, this is fine spord, by God is have peggers eat her fittales all day long. Ne vetho en Thlonigh, Gna watha gethla Tee. Gwenogh olcha vessagh whee, en herawgh, ee. En herawgh Ee? Me gravat the Legatee, athlan ith pendee adroh ornymee on dictar, en hecar Ee. Gwenthian scawrnes to be fciendes, her Lady will be Master Sir owen. Will you? Is try that pie and pie: Stethe whee lawer, Cozen Marguesse Stethe whee lawer Gentlemen, Gwenthian is not pridled so soon. Exit. Cozen, 'tis her intentions so to do, but I swear and I were Griselda I would pull her eyes out, & she were as many Sharmaines daughter is there becowes in Cam briam and that is above twenty score and a lidle more, you know Sir Owen ? Owe Sir Owen marg you now, the man is yéel dead to her Latie, learn now Sir owen learn, learn Knight your duty, see you thade? Cozen Marquess, cozen Julia, and Lawrds and Laties all, it shall not needs as her cozen has tried Griselda, so Gwenthian has Sir Owen, Is not pulled down neither, but sir Owen shall be her head, and is sorry has anger her head and mag it ache, but pray good Knight be not proud & triumph too much & freade her Latie down, God judge me will tag her will again do what her can. Sir owen, Sir owen, 'tis not for faliant, Gwen thyan care so much, but for honest and fertuous, and lo ving and pundall to lead her have her will. Well S. owen, Gwenthyan is going to her cozen Gualther the Duke, for you know is her near cozen by marriage, by tother husband that pring her from Wales. Now if her cozen Gwalther say Gwenthyan tage this pritish knight, shall love her diggon: but must have her good will: marg your thad Sir owen. Yowl man Gwenthyan Sir owen ? Gramercy wheeh, Am a Mock honnoh. Exeunt. Ne vetho en Thonigh, cna wathe gethla Tee, hang Gwenthyans? Go loog, is now paid for her repatoes, isle have her wills & desires, isle teadge her pridle her Lady: Catho crogge, Ne vetho, en Thlonigh gna wathee Gnathlatee. Exit Do and her tear, do and her tear, see you now, what shall her do with wands? peat Gwenthyan? body and mag Gwenthyan put her finger in me hold: would, by God by God, is scradge her eyes out that judge her, that tawg to her, that loog on her, marg you that Sir Owen? Is prade? is prade? go too Rees, I'll Rees her, you tawg you. Rees bear in her wandes because Sir Owen beg so gently. Grissils no body but Grissils ? what care I for Griselda : I say if Sir Owen love Gwenthyan, shall not love Griselda nor Marquess so, see you now? Oh mon lago, mon endue, hang Gwenthyans? But will her say no more hang her self? By God judge me her shall pie it. Shall not? Rees tag her away, I say her shall and wear it pie and pie. Rees, lay her table, and set out her fittailes, and preades, and wines, and ale, and pear, and salt for her guess. You rascals prate no more, but fetch them in: shall pridle Sir Owen a good teale well enough, is war rant her. Sir Owen is gone to bid her cozen Marquess and a meiny to dine at her house, but Gwenthyan shall kive her dinner I warrant her, for peggers shall have all her meat. I thang you my good peggers, Rees pring stools, sid awl down, Rees pring more meat. Peggers I hobe have no manners, but first hear me pray you now, and then fallen to out a cry. Peggers, awl you know Sir Owen ? Rees fedge wine and pears enough, and fallen to pegger, and eat awl her shéere, and tomineere, see you now, pray do. 'Tis lie cozen Marguesse, is terrible lie: raw soon en Ennoh Twewle, 'tis lie, 'tis lie, fit Owen tear her repatoes and ruffs, and pridle her Latie, & bid her hang her self, but is pridled I warrant her, is not Sir Owen ? Tag heed of nails knight, Well, and she be so baselies minded 'tis well, but I know whad I know Sir Owen here thinks to make Gwenthians so patience, sir owen 'tis awl in veins, well I go to her Brides. Exit. Julia by your leaves a lidle while, you taug and you prable about shidings in marriages, and you abuse young men's and damsels, & fraide them from good sports and honourable states: but hear you now, awl that be sembled here, know you that discord's mag good mu sick, and when loners fallen out is soon fallen in, and 'tis good you knaw: pray you all be married, for wedlock increases peoples and cities, awl you then that have husbands that you would pridle, set your hands to Gwenthians pill, for 'tis not fid that poor women's should be kept always under. Fuh fuh is fools, Tawsone is arrant pobie fools.