Wild. A hand, or lip, or any thing that you can spare; when you have conjured up a spirit, he must have some employment, or he'll tear you apieces.
Jac. Well, here's my picture, to help your contemplation in my absence.
Wild. You have already the original of mine: But some revenge you must allow me: A locket of diamonds, or some such trifle, the next time I kiss your hand.
Jac. Fie, fie! you do not think me mercenary? Yet, now I think on't, I'll put you into our Spanish mode of love: Our ladies here use to be the bankers of their servants, and to have their gold in keeping.
Wild. This is the least trial you could have made of me: I have some three hundred pistoles by me; those I'll send by my servant.
Jac. Confess freely, you mistrust me: But if you find the least qualm about your gold, pray keep it for a cordial.
Wild. The cordial must be applied to the heart, and mine's with you, madam. Well; I say no more; but these are dangerous beginnings for holding on: I find my month will have more than one-and-thirty days in't.
Enter Beatrix, running.
Beat. Madam, your father calls in haste for you, and is looking for you about the house.