At Andros, where I was: but whence she hailed
I have even forgot. May it please thee see my wares?
Deid. Thy tale is very sad. I am sorry for thee.
Why would thy son, being as thou sayst so skilled,
Not ply his trade apart?
Ul.My house in Smyrna
Was head of all the goldsmiths: ’twas for that,
Lady, he envied me. See now my wares.
Deid. What beauteous work! I’m glad thou’rt come. I’ll buy
A trinket for myself, and let my maids