010 Cel. An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour.
[012] Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch [013] of holy bread.
[014] Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun of winter’s sisterhood kisses not more religiously; the [015] very ice of chastity is in them.
Ros. But why did he swear he would come this morning, and comes not?
Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
020 Ros. Do you think so?
Cel. Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a horse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I do think him as concave as a covered goblet or a worm-eaten nut.
Ros. Not true in love?
025 Cel. Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in.
Ros. You have heard him swear downright he was.