Moth. Then take it now.
Werme kiss! Thine lips ytaste like marrow-milk;
Me-thinketh that fresh butter runneth on them.
I grant well now, I do enduren woe,
As sharp as doth the Tityus in hell,
Whose stomach fowls do tyren[182] ever more,
That highten vultures, as do tellen clerks.
Pot. You've spoke my meaning, though I do not know
What 'tis you said. Now see the fortune on't;
We do know one another's souls already;
The other must needs follow. Where's your dwelling?
Moth. Yclose by Aldersgate there dwelleth one
Wights clepen Robert Moth; now Aldersgate[183]
Is hoten so from one that Aldrich hight;
Or else of elders, that is, ancient men;
Or else of aldern-trees, which growden there;
Or else, as heralds say, from Aluredus:
But whencesoe'er this yate[184] ycalled is,
There dwelleth Robert Moth, thine paramour.
Pot. Can you be constant unto me, as I
Can be to you?
Moth. By Woden, god of Saxons,
From whence comes We'nsday, that is, Woden'sday,
Truth is a thing that ever I will keep,
Unto thylke day in which I creep into
My sepulchre; I'll be as faithful to thee,
As Chaunticleer to Madam Partelot.[185]
Pot. Here then I give away my heart to you;
As true a heart as ever widow gave.
Moth. I Robert Moth, this tenth [year] of our king,[186]
Give to thee, Joan Potluck, my bigg'st cramp-ring:[187]
And with it my carcase entire I bequeathen
Under my foot to hell, above my head to heaven;
And to witnesse[188] that this is sooth,
I bite thy red lip with my tooth.
Pot. Though for a while our bodies now must part,
I hope they will be join'd hereafter.
Moth. O!
And must we part? Alas! and must we so?
Sin it may be no bet,[189] now gang in peace.