Love, if
Ye guess the right ye won’t be left: how’s that?
So, fellows, ye can knock at either door;
And while Tom standeth scraping the front mat,
By God then, Dick, go rap at the side porch;
The t’other door is locked; I say not which.
[Laughing and boxing their ears as they try, in turn, to whisper to her, she leads them to the ale-barrel, where they drink.]
FRIAR
Sweet brethren, drink with me to t’other ear!
ALISOUN