SCENE I. The street before the Widow’s house.
[Enter Simon Saint Mary-Ovaries and Frailty.]
FRAILTY. Sirrah Simon Saint Mary-Ovaries, my Mistress sends away all her suitors and puts fleas in their ears.
SIMON. Frailty, she does like an honest, chaste, and virtuous woman; for widdows ought not to wallow in the puddle of iniquity.
FRAILTY.
Yet, Simon, many widdows will do’t, what so comes on’t.
SIMON.
True, Frailty, their filthy flesh desires a Conjunction
Copulative. What strangers are within, Frailty?
FRAILTY. There’s none, Simon, but Master Pilfer the Tailor: he’s above with Sir Godfrey praising of a Doublet: and I must trudge anon to fetch Master Suds, the Barber.
SIMON. Master Suds,—a good man; he washes the sins of the Beard clean.
[Enter old Skirmish the soldier.]
SKIRMISH.
How now, creatures? what’s a clock?