Faine

Penker in his ſermõ [sermon] ſo loſt his voice that he was faine to leaue of [off] & come downe in the middes.

[T]hey vvere faine to patche uppe the Matter vvith a little piece of Paper clappid over the foreſaid VVordes, […]

VVhat is the truſt or ſtrength of fooliſh man? / They that of late vvere daring vvith their ſcoffes, / Are glad and faine by flight to ſaue themſelues.

[S]carcely ſhe could ryde, / And eke through heauie armes, vvhich ſore annoyd / The Prince on foot, not vvonted ſo to fare; / VVhoſe ſteadie hand vvas faine his ſteede to guyde, / And all the vvay from trotting hard to ſpare, / So vvas his toyle the more, the more that vvas his care.

By this heaunly ground I tread on, I muſt be faine to pavvne both my plate, & the tapeſtry of my dining chambers.

I vvould faine knovv vvhat you haue to ſay.

Yet dearely I love you, and vvould be lov'd faine, / But am betroth'd unto your enemie, […]

Now vvould I giue a thouſand furlongs of Sea, for an Acre of barren ground: Long heath, Brovvne firrs, any thing; the vvills aboue be done, but I vvould faine dye a dry death.