John, you're my husband's man, you know;
Why should you use your mistress so? 
You make me breathless; here's good gear.
What if your master now were here?
But, good John, leave off and begone,
For yet . . . you're an honest man, John. 

God's be! Dear, what do you go about?
What woman's able to hold out?
You put me to my shifts so fast
That long I fear I cannot last.
But now be quiet and begone, 
For yet . . . you are an honest man, John. 

Will you not leave? Alas, I faint.
This is enough to undo a saint. 
Your master comes; for shame, away.
What shall I do? What should I say?
Aye me, my breath and all is gone. 
And now . . . you're no honest man, John.