Avar. Good Misericordia, now! and lady most dear!—
Christ blister on your heart! what make you here?

Resp. Come back, Policy!

Avar. I come!

Resp. Whither would ye now?

Avar. Convey myself hence honestly, if I wist how.

Resp. When come ye, Policy? what look ye? something lost!

Avar. Anon! if I tarry, it will turn to my cost.

Resp. Ah, friend, Policy!

Avar. Yea!

Resp. Now shall I be in bliss.