Evad. Nurse, pray leave us, your presence makes your sweetheart negligent of what he comes about; pray, be won to leave us here.
Nur. Madam, your will's obey'd:
Yet I can hardly pass from thee, my love,
At such a sudden warning.
Gio. Your eager love may be termed dotage;
For shame! confine[20] yourself to less expressions,
[And] leave my lady.
Nur. A kiss, and then I go; so, farewell, my duck.
[Exit.
Gio. Death, she has left a scent to poison me;
Love her, said she? is any man so mad to hug a disease,
Or embrace a colder image than Pygmalion's,
Or play with the bird of
Frosty antiquity? not I:
Her gums stink worse than a pest-house,
And more danger of infecting.
[Aside.
As I'm a mortal tailor, and your servant, madam,
Her breath has tainted me: I dare not salute
Your ladyship.
Evad. Come, you are loth to part with't, 'tis so sweet.
Gio. Sweet, say you, madam? a muster of diseases
Can't smell worse than her rotten teeth.
Excuse my boldness, to defer your longing;
Thus I am new-created with your breath.