Wid. Sirrah, will the churchman come I sent you for?
Clown. Yes, mistress, he will come; but pray, resolve me one thing for my long service. What business have you with the churchman? Is it to make your will, or to get you a new husband?
Wid. Suppose to make my will, how then?
Clown. Then I would desire you to remember me, mistress; I have serv'd you long, and that's the best service to a woman: make a good will, if you mean to die, that it may not be said, Though most women be long-liv'd, yet they all die with an ill-will.
Wid. So, sir; suppose it be for marriage?
Clown. Why, then, remember yourself, mistress: take heed how you give away the head; it stands yet upon the shoulders of your widowhood: the loving, embracing ivy has yet the upper place in the house; if you give it to the holly, take heed, there's pricks in holly; or if you fear not the pricks, take heed of the wands; you cannot have the pricks without the wands: you give away the sword, and must defend yourself with the scabbard: these are pretty instructions of a friend; I would be loth to see you cast down, and not well taken up.
Wid. Well, sir, well, let not all this trouble you; see, he's come: will you begone?
Enter Doctor.[53]
Clown. I will first give him a caveat, to use you as kindly as he can. [To the Doctor.] If you find my mistress have a mind to this coupling at barley-break, let her not be the last couple to be left in hell.[54]