MAL. God be thanked!
Did he descend some steeple or some ladder?
PHIL. Well, you will still be cross; I tell ye, sister—
This gentleman, by all your friends' consent
Must be your husband.
MAL. Nay, not all, some sing another note;
My mother will say no, I hold a groat.
But I thought 'twas somewhat, he would be a carter;
He hath been whipping lately some blind bear,
And now he would ferk the blind boy here with us.
PHIL. Well, do you hear, you, sister, mistress [that] would have—
You that do long for somewhat, I know what—
My father told me—go to, I'll tell all,
If ye be cross—do you hear me? I have labour'd
A year's work in this afternoon for ye:
Come from your cloister, votary, chaste nun,
Come down and kiss Frank Goursey's mother's son.
MAL. Kiss him, I pray?
PHIL. Go to, stale maidenhead! come down, I say,
You seventeen and upward, come, come down;
You'll stay till twenty else for your wedding gown.
MAL. Nun, votary, stale maidenhead, seventeen and upward!
Here be names! what, nothing else?
FRAN. Yes, or a fair-built steeple without bells.
MAL. Steeple! good people, nay, another cast.
FRAN. Ay, or a well-made ship without a mast.