_Meg_. Methinks 'tis easie, now I ha' don't before;
But yet I should stick at it.

_Pha_. Stick till to morrow.
I'le ne'r part you sweetest. But we lose time,
Can you love me?

_Meg_. Love you my Lord? How would you have me
love you?

_Pha_. I'le teach you in a short sentence, cause I will not
load your memory, that is all; love me, and lie with
me.

_Meg_. Was it lie with you that you said? 'Tis impossible.

_Pha_. Not to a willing mind, that will endeavour; if I do
not teach you to do it as easily in one night, as you'l
go to bed, I'le lose my Royal blood for't.

_Meg_. Why Prince, you have a Lady of your own, that
yet wants teaching.

_Pha_. I'le sooner teach a Mare the old measures, than teach
her any thing belonging to the function; she's afraid to
lie with her self, if she have but any masculine
imaginations about her; I know when we are married,
I must ravish her.

_Meg_. By my honour, that's a foul fault indeed, but time