“Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'And yet, I warrant, it had upon its browA bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.”

“yea dost thou fall upon thy face? thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit!”

“Thou - why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thow hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With another, for tying his new shoes with old ribbon? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling?”

“Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt.”

“O thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou beWhen time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case?Or will not else thy craft so quickly grow,That thine own trip shall be thine overthrow?Farewell, and take her; but direct thy feetWhere thou and I henceforth may never meet.”

“Take it in what sense thou wilt.”

“Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all,What hast thou then more than thou hadst before? No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call, All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more. Then if for my love thou my love receivest,I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest, But yet be blam’d, if thou this self deceivest By willful taste of what thyself refusest.”