Bap. And I to sound the depth of this knauerie.
Enter.
Luc. Looke not pale Bianca, thy father will not frown.
Exeunt.
Gre. My cake is dough, but Ile in among the rest,
Out of hope of all, but my share of the feast
Kate. Husband let's follow, to see the end of this adoe
Petr. First kisse me Kate, and we will
Kate. What in the midst of the streete?
Petr. What art thou asham'd of me?
Kate. No sir, God forbid, but asham'd to kisse
Petr. Why then let's home againe: Come Sirra let's
awaie
Kate. Nay, I will giue thee a kisse, now praie thee
Loue staie
Petr. Is not this well? come my sweete Kate.
Better once then neuer, for neuer to late.