Arread

But mark what I arread thee now. Avaunt; …

His hall resounds!―amaz'd the stranger wight Arreads it all as done to him in fell despight.

Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune's spite; No sky is heavy, if the heart be light: Patience is sorrow's salve; what can't be cur'd, So Donald right arreads, must be endur'd.

My tongue shall speak but what my heart arreads, Nor varnish use to blacken more thy deeds; …

Soldier, I come. But, ere we part, I will arread thy doom, Proud ruthless woman!

Now, good Christe arread, and gesse whoe gaue thee the buffet?

You arread me aright.