Merc. Go to; ask no more questions. I am for thy turn; for I know thy heart, and see all thou hast about thee.
Phæd. Then you can see my backside too; there's a bargain for you.
Merc. In thy right pocket:—let me see; three love letters from judge Gripus, written to the bottom, on three sides; full of fustian passion, and hearty nonsense: as also, in the same pocket, a letter of thine intended to him, consisting of nine lines and a half, scrawled and false spelled, to show thou art a woman; and full of fraudulence, and equivocations, and shoeing-horns of love to him; to promise much, and mean nothing; to show, over and above, that thou art a mere woman.
Phæd. Is the devil in you, to see all this? Now, for heaven's sake, do not look in t'other pocket.
Merc. Nay, there's nothing there, but a little godly prayer-book, and a bawdy lampoon, and——
Phæd. [Giving a great frisk.] Look no farther, I beseech you.
Merc. And a silver spoon——
Phæd. [Shrieking.] Ah!——
Merc. Which you purloined last night from Bromia.