Tim. Sim, because the man's an honest man, I pray lay up his vice, as safe as it were our own.
Sim. And if he miss his day, and forfeit, it shall be yours and your heirs for ever.
Blood. What, disbursing money, boy? Here is thy mother-in-law.
Sim. Your nose drops: 'twill spoil her ruff.
Tim. Pray, forsooth, what's a clock?
Maid. O, fie upon him, mistress, I thought he had begun to ask you blessing.
Wid. Peace, we'll have more on't. [Walks towards him.
Tim. I wonnot kiss, indeed.
Sim. An' he wonnot, here are those that will, forsooth.
Blood. Get you in, you rogue. [Exit Sim.