And what young girl is this with your maship so bold?
R. Roister. A girl?
M. Merry. Yea, I daresay, scarce yet threescore year old.
R. Roister. This same is the fair widow's nurse, of whom ye wot.
M. Merry. Is she but a nurse of a house? hence home, old trot!
Hence at once!
R. Roister. No, no.
M. Merry. What, an' please your maship,
A nurse talk so homely with one of your worship?
R. Roister. I will have it so; it is my pleasure and will.