And, mistress nurse, I will kiss you for acquaintance.
M. Mumbl. I come anon, sir.
Tib. Talk. Faith, I would our dame Custance Saw this gear.
M. Mumbl. I must first wipe all clean, yea, I must.
Tib. Talk. Ill 'chieve it, doting fool, but it must be cust.
M. Mumbl. God 'ield you, sir; chad not so much, i-chotte not when:
Ne'er since chwas born, chwine,[73] of such a gay gentleman.
R. Roister. I will kiss you too, maiden, for the good will I bear ye.
Tib. Talk. No, forsooth, by your leave, ye shall not kiss me.