And in the milkhouse chatted with your selfe. 45
Margret. To me? You forget your selfe.[1318]
Lacie. Women are often weake in memorie.
Margret. Oh, pardon sir, I call to mind the man:
Twere little manners to refuse his gift,
And yet I hope he sends it not for love; 50
For we have little leisure to debate of that.[1319]
Jone. What, Margret! blush not: mayds must have their loves.
Thomas. Nay, by the masse, she lookes pale as if she were angrie. 54
Richard. Sirha, are you of Beckls? I pray, how dooth Goodman Cob? my father bought a horse of him.—Ile tell you Margret, a were good to be a gentlemans jade, for of all things the foule hilding could not abide a doongcart.