Yel. Have you the wideness of her finger, sir?
Touch. jun. Yes, sure, I think I have her measure about me:
Good faith, ’tis down, I cannot show it to you;
I must pull too many things out to be certain.
Let me see—long and slender, and neatly jointed;
Just such another gentlewoman—that’s your daughter, sir?
Yel. And therefore, sir, no gentlewoman.
Touch. jun. I protest.
I ne’er saw two maids handed more alike;
I’ll ne’er seek farther, if you’ll give me leave, sir.