San. I believe I shall find thou hast a great deal of her flesh, my charmer; but 'twon't do; I am all rock, hard rock, very marble.
Jacin. A very pumice stone, you rascal you, if one would try thee; but to prevent thy humilities, and shew thee all submission would be vain; to convince thee thou hast nothing but misery and despair before thee; here——take back thy paltry thimble, and be in my debt for the shirts I have made thee with it.
San. Nay, if y'are at that sport, Mistress, I believe I shall lose nothing by the balance of thy presents. There, take thy tobacco-stopper, and stop thy——
Jacin. Here, take thy sattin pincushion, with thy curious half hundred of pins in't, thou mad'st such a vapouring about yesterday: tell them carefully, there's not one wanting.
San. There's thy ivory-hafted knife again, whet it well; 'tis so blunt 'twill cut nothing but love.
Jacin. And there's thy pretty pocket scissars thou hast honour'd me with, they'll cut off a leg or an arm; heaven bless them.
San. Here's the inchanted handkerchief you were pleased to indear with your precious blood, when the violence of your love at dinner, t'other day, made you cut your fingers——There.
[Blows his nose in it, and gives it her.
Jacin. The rascal so provokes me, I won't even keep his paltry garters from him. D'ye see these? You pitiful beggarly scoundrel you:——There, take 'em, there.
[She takes her garters off, and flaps them about his face.