Mer. A pretty wash I'll assure you.
Pand. 'Twill serve: your offers must be full of bounty, Velvets to furnish a Gown, Silks for Peticoats and Foreparts, Shag for lining; forget not some pretty Jewel to fasten, after some little compliment: if she deny this courtesie, double your bounties, be not wanting in abundance, fulness of gifts, link'd with a pleasing tongue, will win an Anchorite. Sir, ye are my friend, and friend to all that professes good Letters; I must not use this office else, it fits not for a Scholar, and a Gentleman: those stockin[g]s are of Naples, they are silk?
Mer. Ye are again beside your Text, Sir, they're of the best of Wooll, and [they cleeped] Jersey.
Pan. Sure they are very dear.
Mer. Nine shillings, by my love to learning.
Pan. Pardon my judgement, we Scholars use no other objects, but our Books.
Mer. There is one thing entomb'd in that grave breast, that makes me equally admire it with your Scholarship.
Pand. Sir; but that in modesty I am bound not to affect mine own commendation, I would enquire it of you.
Merc. Sure you are very honest; and yet ye have a kind of modest fear to shew it: do not deny it, that face of yours is a worthy, learned modest face.