Evad. Art thou drunk Dula?
Dul. Why here's none but we.
Evad. Thou think'st belike, there is no modesty When we are alone.
Dul. I by my troth you hit my thoughts aright.
Evad. You prick me Lady.
Dul. 'Tis against my will, Anon you must endure more, and lie still. You're best to practise.
Evad. Sure this wench is mad.
Dul. No faith, this is a trick that I have had Since I was fourteen.
Evad. 'Tis high time to leave it.
Dul. Nay, now I'le keep it till the trick leave me; A dozen wanton words put in your head, Will make you lively in your Husbands bed.