Wit. Sweetheart, gramercys!
Hon. Rec. Why, whither now? Have ye done, since?
Wit. Yea, in faith! with weary bones ye have possessed me;
Among these damsels now will I rest me.
Hon. Rec. What, there?
Wit. Yea, here; I will be so bold.
Idleness. Yea, and welcome, by him that God sold!
Hon. Rec. It is an harlot; may ye not see?
Idle. As honest a woman as ye be!
Hon. Rec. Her name is Idleness. Wit! what mean you?
Idle. Nay! what mean you to scold thus, you quean, you?