Io. Thou, being a Forrester's Boy, shouldst sweare by the God of the woods.
Fris. My Maister sweares by Siluanus; I must sweare by his poore neighbour.
Io. And heer's a shepheard's swaine sweares by a Kitchen God, Pan.
Mop. Pan's the shepheardes God; but thou swearest by Pot: what God's that?
Io. The God of good-fellowship. Well, you haue wicked maisters, that teach such little Boyes to sweare so young.
Fris. Alas, good old great man, wil not your maister swear?
Io. I neuer heard him sweare six sound oaths in all my life.
Mop. May hap he cannot because hee's diseas'd.
Fris. Peace, Mopso. I will stand too't hee's neither brave Courtier, bouncing Cavalier, nor boone Companion if he sweare not some time; for they will sweare, forsweare, and sweare.
Io. How sweare, forsweare, and sweare? how is that?