Pa. O Lord, sir, I cannot make a picture sing. 40
Bal. Why? ’slid, I have seen painted things sing as sweet;
But I have’t will tickle it for a conceit, i’faith.
Enter Feliche and Alberto.
Alb. O dear Feliche, give me thy device.
How shall I purchase love of Rossaline?
Feli. ’Swill, flatter her soundly.
Alb. Her love is such, I cannot flatter her:
But with my utmost vehemence of speech,
I have ador’d her beauties.
Feli. Hast writ good moving unaffected rhymes to her?
Alb. O, yes, Feliche, but she scorns my writ. 50
Feli. Hast thou presented her with sumptuous gifts?
Alb. Alas, my fortunes are too weak to offer them.