Isab. Which I did with six lyes in your Commendation,
Worth ten Pistoles a piece for the exactness of a Lye;
Write there indebted to me—
Lor. Nay then thou dost deserve it:
Rest due to Isabella. Writes.
Item, Innumerable Serenades, Night-walks, Affronts
And Fears; and lastly, to the Poets for Songs, and the like.
Isab. All which was recompensed in the excessive
Laughing on you that Day you praunc’d under our
Window on Horse-back, when you made such a