80 Dro. S. Marry, sir, besides myself, I am due to a woman; one that claims me, one that haunts me, one that will have me.
Ant. S. What claim lays she to thee?
Dro. S. Marry, sir, such claim as you would lay to 85 your horse; and she would have me as a beast: not that, I being a beast, she would have me; but that she, being a very beastly creature, lays claim to me.
Ant. S. What is she?
Dro. S. A very reverent body; ay, such a one as a man 90 may not speak of, without he say Sir-reverence. I have but lean luck in the match, and yet is she a wondrous fat marriage.
Ant. S. [How] dost thou mean a fat marriage?
Dro. S. Marry, sir, she’s the kitchen-wench, and all 95 grease; and I know not what use to put her to, but to make a lamp of her, and run from her by her own light. I warrant, her rags, and the tallow in them, will burn a [Poland] winter: if she lives till doomsday, she’ll burn a week longer than the whole world.
100 Ant. S. What complexion is she of?
Dro. S. Swart, like my shoe, but her face nothing like so clean kept: for why she sweats; a man may go over shoes in the grime of it.
Ant. S. That’s a fault that water will mend.