“By Yea and Nay, I think it’s fit,
“To keep our money and pay with wit,
“Though he’s noble born, I do not lo’e him;
“Yet ne’ertheless I will go to him:
“Were he all the earthly into one skin,
“He’s but a lump of dust and sin,
“If I regard the face of clay,
“To morrow be my bury’ng day:
“He’s fenc’d around with men and swords,
“Which I’ll repel with simple words.”