Mal. Mother, good mother, heare me! O good God,
Now we are even, what, would you make us odde?
Now, I beseech ye, for the love of Christ,
To give me leave once to do what I list. 205
I am as you were when you were a maide;
Gesse by your selfe how long you would have staide,
Might you have had your will: as good begin
At first as last, it saves us from much sinne;
Lying alone, we muse on things and things, 210
And in our mindes one thought another brings: