William Shakespeare and John Fletcher

“ Some blind Priest for the purpose, that will venture
To marry us, for here they are nice, and foolish;
Besides, my father must be hang'd to morrow
And that would be a blot i'th businesse.
Are not you Palamon? ”

“ And I am glad my Cosen Palamon
Has made so faire a choice.
DAUGHTER.
Doe you thinke hee'l have me?
DOCTOR.
Yes, without doubt.
DAUGHTER.
Doe you thinke so too?
IAILOR.
Yes.
DAUGHTER.
We shall have many children:—Lord, how y'ar growne!
My Palamon, I hope, will grow, too, finely,
Now he's at liberty: Alas, poore Chicken,
He was kept downe with hard meate and ill lodging,
But ile kisse him up againe. ”

“ And let's see how shee is.
IAILOR.
I will, and tell her
Her Palamon staies for her: But, Doctor,
Me thinkes you are i'th wrong still. [Exit Iaylor.]
DOCTOR.
Goe, goe:
You Fathers are fine Fooles: her honesty? ”