FORD.
She never used, my lord,
A second means, but kissed the letter first,
O’erlooked the superscription, then let fall
Some amorous drops, kissed it again, talked to it
Twenty times over, set it to her mouth,
Then gave it to me, then snatched it back again,
Then cried, “Oh, my poor heart!” and, in an instant,
“Commend my truth and secrecy.” Such medley
Of passion yet I never saw in woman.
Lady’s Trial.
Piero. Does not yourself know, lady?
Amoretta. I do not uthe
To thpen lip-labor upon quethtionths
That I mythelf can anthwer.
Futelli. No, sweet madam,
Your lips are destined to a better use,
Or else the proverb fails of lisping maids.
Amoretta. Kithing you mean; pray come behind with
Your mockths then,
My lipth will therve the one to kith the other.
Lady’s Trial.