NURSE. 
Mother, pray ye, take ye some pains with her, and keep her awhile
longer, and if she do not mend, I’ll beat her black and blue.  I’ faith,
I’ll not fail you, minion.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. 
Faith, at thy request, I’ll take her home, and try her a week longer.

NURSE. 
Come on, huswife; please your granam, and be a good wench, and you shall
ha’ my blessing.

MOTHER MIDNIGHT. 
Come, follow us, good wench.

[Exeunt MOTHER MIDNIGHT and NURSE. Manet PEG.

PEG.  Ay, farewell; fair weather after you.  Your blessing, quotha?  I’ll not give a single halfpenny for’t.  Who would live under a mother’s nose and a granam’s tongue?  A maid cannot love, or catch a lip-clip or a lap-clap, but here’s such tittle-tattle, and Do not so, and Be not so light, and Be not so fond, and Do not kiss, and Do not love, and I cannot tell what; and I must love, an I hang for’t.

[She sings.

    A sweet thing is love,
      That rules both heart and mind: 
    There is no comfort in the world
      To women that are kind.

Well.  I’ll not stay with her; stay, quotha?  To be yawled and jawled at, and tumbled and thumbled, and tossed and turned, as I am by an old hag, I will not:  no, I will not, i’ faith.

    Enter WILL CRICKET.

But stay, I must put on my smirking looks and smiling countenance, for here comes one makes ’bomination suit to be my sprused husband.

WILL CRICKET.  Lord, that my heart would serve me to speak to her, now she talks of her sprused husband!  Well, I’ll set a good face on’t.  Now I’ll clap me as close to her as Jone’s buttocks of a close-stool, and come over her with my rolling, rattling, rumbling eloquence.  Sweet Peg, honey Peg, fine Peg, dainty Peg, brave Peg, kind Peg, comely Peg; my nutting, my sweeting, my love, my dove, my honey, my bunny, my duck, my dear, and my darling: 

    Grace me with thy pleasant eyes,
      And love without delay;
    And cast not with thy crabbed looks
      A proper man away.

PEG. 
Why, William, what’s the matter?

WILL CRICKET.  What’s the matter, quotha?  Faith, I ha’ been in a fair taking for you, a bots on you! for t’other day, after I had seen you, presently my belly began to rumble.  What’s the matter, thought I. With that I bethought myself, and the sweet comportance of that same sweet round face of thine came into my mind.  Out went I, and, I’ll be sworn, I was so near taken, that I was fain to cut all my points.  And dost hear, Peg? if thou dost not grant me thy goodwill in the way of marriage, first and foremost I’ll run out of my clothes, and then out of my wits for thee.

PEG. 
Nay, William, I would be loth you should do so for me.

WILL CRICKET. 
Will you look merrily on me, and love me then?