Wid. A wild, mad roarer, a trouble not worth minding.
Jar. He will mind you ere morning, troth, mistress. [Aside.] There waits a gentleman i' th' next room that hath a long time loved you, and has watched for such an hour, when all was out of doors, to tell you so; and, none being within but you and I, he desires you would hear him speak, and there's an end on't.
Wid. What is he?
Jar. An honest man.
Wid. How know you?
Jar. Why, he told me so.
Wid. And why were you such a fool to take his own word.
Jar. Because all the wit I had could get nobody's else.
Wid. A knave will ever tell you he's an honest man.
Jar. But an honest man will never tell you he's a knave.