And that we call a pudding, hath his two,
Oh let it not seem strange, I pray to you,
If in this bloody simile, I put
My love, more endless than frail things or gut.
Wife. Husband, I prithee, sweet lamb, tell me one thing, but tell me truly. Stay, youths, I beseech you, till I question my husband.
Cit. What is it, mouse?
Wife. Sirrah, didst thou ever see a prettier child? how it behaves itself, I warrant you: and speaks and looks, and perts up the head? I pray you brother, with your favour, were you never one of Mr. Muncaster's scholars?
Cit. Chicken, I prithee heartily contain thyself, the childer are pretty childer, but when Ralph comes, lamb!
Wife. Ay, when Ralph comes, cony! Well, my youth, you may proceed.
Merch. Well, sir, you know my love, and rest, I hope,