MRS. FRAIL. Well, but if you should forsake me after all, you’d break my heart.
BEN. Break your heart? I’d rather the Mary-gold should break her cable in a storm, as well as I love her. Flesh, you don’t think I’m false-hearted, like a landman. A sailor will be honest, thof mayhap he has never a penny of money in his pocket. Mayhap I may not have so fair a face as a citizen or a courtier; but, for all that, I’ve as good blood in my veins, and a heart as sound as a biscuit.
MRS. FRAIL. And will you love me always?
BEN. Nay, an I love once, I’ll stick like pitch; I’ll tell you that. Come, I’ll sing you a song of a sailor.
MRS. FRAIL. Hold, there’s my sister, I’ll call her to hear it.
MRS. FORE. Well; I won’t go to bed to my husband to-night, because I’ll retire to my own chamber, and think of what you have said.
SCAN. Well; you’ll give me leave to wait upon you to your chamber door, and leave you my last instructions?
MRS. FORE. Hold, here’s my sister coming towards us.
MRS. FRAIL. If it won’t interrupt you I’ll entertain you with a song.
BEN. The song was made upon one of our ship’s-crew’s wife. Our boatswain made the song. Mayhap you may know her, sir. Before she was married she was called buxom Joan of Deptford.