Marrie his kisses are Iudasses owne children

Ros. I'faith his haire is of a good colour

Cel. An excellent colour:
Your Chessenut was euer the onely colour:
Ros. And his kissing is as ful of sanctitie,
As the touch of holy bread

Cel. Hee hath bought a paire of cast lips of Diana: a
Nun of winters sisterhood kisses not more religiouslie,
the very yce of chastity is in them

Rosa. But why did hee sweare hee would come this
morning, and comes not?
Cel. Nay certainly there is no truth in him

Ros. Doe you thinke so?
Cel. Yes, I thinke he is not a picke purse, nor a horse-stealer,
but for his verity in loue, I doe thinke him as
concaue as a couered goblet, or a Worme-eaten nut

Ros. Not true in loue?
Cel. Yes, when he is in, but I thinke he is not in

Ros. You haue heard him sweare downright he was

Cel. Was, is not is: besides, the oath of Louer is no
stronger then the word of a Tapster, they are both the
confirmer of false reckonings, he attends here in the forrest