Lamb. Hand? Zounds! by the four-and-twenty elements.
Jane. Pray spare your oaths; I do believe you do,
You would not else make all this stir to woo.
Sir Godfrey, you are a knight both tough and old;
A rotten building cannot long time hold.
Lamb. Speedwell, live well, die well, and be hanged well, change your copy well, your experience will not carry it else.
Jane. You're rich too, at least yourself so say;
What, though you're but a gilded man of clay.
Lamb. A man of gingerbread; i' faith, I could find in my heart to eat him.
Jane. Should I wed you, the fire with frost must marry,
January and May! I for a younger tarry.
Lamb. That's I! In troth, I'll be thy young Lambskin; thou shalt find me as innocent as a sucking dove. Speak, sweet mistress, am I the youth in a basket?
Jane. You are the sweet youth, sir, whose pretty eyes
Would make me love; but you must first be wise.
Speed. Ha, ha! Is your coxcomb cut? I see experience must board this fair pinnace. A word in private.