You my good souls have all beguil’d.
O then, sweetheart, to me incline,
And bless your constant Valentine.
THE ANSWER.
You cutter-up of many souls,
And cause of divers ends and holes;
You mixer, dauber, pray be quiet,
Nor in my heart kick up a riot;
Be not in haste, good master Leather,
And we mayhap may come together.