Ev’n adamant you know—
Guil. Oh, she relents!
Lope. Oh, let me kiss those white hands for those words!
Guil. Excellent friend! he could not plead more warmly
Were ’t for himself.
Lope. Oh for some little token
To vouch, when you have vanisht from my eyes,
That all was not a dream!
Viol. (giving him a rose). This rose, whose hue
Is of the same that should my check imbue!