MAT. By prayer, by fasting, by considering
The shame of ill, and meed of doing well.
ABB. But daughter, daughter, tell me in my ear,
Have you no fleshly fightings now and then? [Whisper.
BRAND. Fleshly, quoth you, a maid of three-score years?
And fleshly fightings sticking in her teeth?
Well, wench, thou'rt match'd, i' faith. [Aside.]
ABB. You do confess the king has tempted you,
And thinking now and then on gifts and state,
A glowing heat hath proudly puff'd you up:
But, thanks to God, his grace hath done you good.
MONK. Who? the king's grace?
MAT. No; God's grace, holy monk.
MONK. The king's grace would fain do you good, fair maid.
MAT. Ill-good: he means my fame to violate.
ABB. Well, let that be.
BRAND. Good bawd, good mother B.[353]
How fain you would that that good deed should be! [Aside.]