[Exit Clow.
Cun. A very good note; this love makes us all Monkeyes, But to my work: 'Scarfe first? and now a Diamond? these should be sure signs of her affections truth; Yet I'll go forward with my surer proof: [Exit.
Enter Neece, and Sir Gregory.
Neece. Is't possible?
Sir Greg. Nay, here's his Letter too, there's a fine Jewel in't,
Therefore I brought it to you.
Neece. You tedious Mongril! Is't not enough
To grace thee, to receive this from thy hand,
A thing which makes me almost sick to do,
But you must talk too?
Sir Greg. I ha' done.
Neece. Fall back,
Yet backer, backer yet, you unmannerly puppy,
Do you not see I'm going about to read it?
Sir Greg. Nay, these are golden dayes, now I stay by't,
She was wont not to endure me in her sight at all,
The World mends, I see that.