Fr. I hear you.
Wild. Free us both from the fear of breeding fools
And ophs, got by this shadow: we talk too long.
Fr. She is going [now] to bed, among the women,
What opportunity can I have to meet her?
Wild. Let me alone, hast thou a will? speak soundly,
Speak discreetly, speak home and handsomly,
Is't not pitty, nay misery, nay infamy to leave
So rare a pie to be cut up by a raskal.
Fr. I will go presently, now, now, I stay thee.
Wild. Such a dainty Doe, to be taken
By one that knows not neck-beef from a Phesant,
Nor cannot rellish Braggat from Ambrosia.
Is it not conscience?
Fr. Yes, yes, now I feel it.
Wild. A meritorious thing.
Fr. Good Father Wildgoose,
I do confess it.
Wild. Come then follow me.
And pluck a mans heart up, I'll lock thee privately,
Where she alone shall presently pass by,
None near to interupt thee but be sure.