POT. How could I choose, Being thou wert not here? The time is come: Thou'lt be as good unto me as thy word? HEAR. Nay, hang me, if I e'er recant. You'll take me Both wind and limb at th' venture, will you not? POT. Ay, good chuck, every inch of thee; she were no true woman that would not. HEAR. I must tell you one thing--and yet I'm loth. POT. I am thy rib, Thou must keep nothing from thy rib, good chuck: Thy yoke-fellow must know all thy secrets. HEAR. Why then, I'll tell you, sweet. [_He whispers her._ POT. Heaven defend! HEAR. 'Tis true. POT. Now, God forbid! and would you offer T' undo a widow-woman so? I had As lief the old vintner were alive again. HEAR. I was born[119] with it, I confess; but lying In Turkey for intelligence, the Great Turk, Somewhat suspicious of me, lest I might Entice some o' th' seraglio, did command I should be forthwith cut. POT. A heathen deed It was! none but an infidel could have The heart to do it. HEAR. Now you know the worst That you must trust to. Come, let's to the church. POT. Good Master Hearsay, nature ne'er intended One woman should be joined to another: The holy blessing of all wedlock was T' increase and multiply, as Master Christopher Did well observe last Sabbath. I'll not do Anything 'gainst God's word. I do release you Of all your promises; and that it may not Be said you lost by loving me, take this. Perhaps I may get you a contribution O' th' women of the parish, as I did The broken-bellied man the other day. HEAR. Seeing you needs will cast me off, let me Entreat this one thing of you: that you would not Make me your table-talk at the next gossiping. [_Exit._ POT. Indeed I pity thee, poor thing; or rather I pity thee, poor nothing! _Enter_ SLICER. Good lieutenant, How dost thou? Thou art mindful of thy promise. SLICER. What else, my jolly wench? POT. Good sweet lieutenant, Give me but leave to ask one question of you: Art thou entire and sound in all thy limbs? SLICER. To tell the very truth, ere now I've had A spice o' the pox or so; but now I am sound As any bell--hem! was't not shrill, my girl? ha! POT. I do not ask thee about these diseases: My question is, whether thou'st all thy parts? SLICER. Faith, I have lost a joint or two; as none Of our profession, come off whole, unless The general and some sneaks. POT. My meaning is, Whether that something is not wanting that Should write thee husband?