Enter Cocledemoy and Mary Faugh.
Coc. Mary, Mary Faugh.
Mar. Hem.[15]
Coc. Come, my worshipful rotten rough-bellied bawd! ha! my blue-tooth’d patroness of natural wickedness, give me the goblets.
Mar. By yea and by nay, Master Cocledemoy, I fear you’ll play the knave, and restore them.
Coc. No, by the lord, aunt,[16] restitution is catholic, and thou know’st we love——
Mar. What? 10
Coc. Oracles are ceased: tempus præteritum, doest hear, my worshipful glysterpipe, thou ungodly fire that burnt Diana’s temple?—doest hear, bawd?
Mar. In very good truthness, you are the foulest-mouth’d, profane, railing brother, call a woman the most ungodly names: I must confess, we all eat of the forbidden fruit, and for mine own part, though I am one of
the family of love, and, as they say, a bawd that covers the multitude of sins, yet I trust I am none of the wicked that eat fish o’ Fridays. 20