Eit. ’Tis true, as I am handſome!
Wit. I receiu’d, Lady, 100 A token from you, which I would not bee Rude to refuſe, being your firſt remembrance.
(Fit. O, I am ſatisfied now! Mer. Do you ſee it, Sir.)
Wit. But ſince you come, to know me, neerer, Lady, I’ll begge the honour, you will weare for mee, 105 It muſt be ſo.
Wittipol giues it Miſtreſſe Fitz-dottrel.
Mrs. Fit. Sure I haue heard this tongue.
Mer. What do you meane, Sr?
Mere-craft murmures,
Wit. Would you ha’ me mercenary? We’ll recompence it anon, in ſomewhat elſe.
He is ſatisfied, now he ſees it.