More than light airs and recollected terms
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.
…
O fellow, come, the song we had last night.
Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,[165]
Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age.”