To my wyfe
My dere none of All Ioys I have vndar god
the gretestes is your celfe/ to thynke that I posses
so fethefull & one that I know loves me so dearly
is All & the gretest comforte that this yrthe can
gyve/ therefor god gyve me grace to be thankefull
to him for his goodnes shoud vnto me A vyle synare
& where your Advyse in your lettar you wylled me to
burne whych I dyd that I shuld nott be Akon to this lade
nothyng of the mattar my stomake was so full I Asked
hur in quyett mannare whedder che wrytt Any lettares
to Any hur frendes that I wold stand in hur tytell
che Afyrmes of hur honor che hathe nott but
how so evare it is che hathe wrytten therein I maye
safly Answare I make small Acounte thereof
I thanke you my swete harte that you Arre
so wyllenge to cum whan I wyll/ therefore dere harte
sende me word how sone I myght send for
you/ & tyll I maye have your compeny I shall
thynke longe my only Ioye/ & therefor Apoynt me
Aday/ & in the mene tyme I shall contente me
with your wyll & longe dayly for your cummynge
I your lettares can very well & I lyke them so well they
could nott be Amended & have cent them vpp
to gylbard I have wrytten to him how happe he is
to have syche Amothar as you Arre fare well
only Ioye this tuesdaye mornyng
Your fethfull none
G Shrewesbury