the king 134 was m his cornerwall melking mark so murry, the queen lying abroad from fury of the meang or the Dublin river or the gander of Hayden. Would ye ken a young rose and his enement curdinal marryng and his wollsey shirtplisse with peascod doublet, also his feet in a hardly gurdly Cicilian concertone of their lace. Red Rowleys popped out of the twelve apos- trophes, set by Jockit Mic Ereweak. He misunderstruck and aim for am olio