New. May I not prosper if I have not seen
A better face in signs or gingerbread.
Tim. Yes, I for twopence oft have bought a better.
Bright. What a sweet, innocent look you have!
Plot. Fie, gentlemen,
Abuse a harmless lady thus! I can't
With patience hear your blasphemies. Make me
Your second, madam.
Tim. And make me your third.
Aur. O prodigy, to hear an image speak!
Why, sir, I took you for a mute i' th' hangings.
I'll tell the faces.
Tim. Gentlemen, do I
Look like one of them Trojans?[211]
Aur. 'tis So; Your Face
Is missing here, sir; pray, step back again,
And fill the number. You, I hope, have more
Truth in you than to filch yourself away,
And leave my room unfurnish'd.
Plot. By this light
She'll send for a constable straight, and apprehend him
For thievery.
Tim. Why, lady, do you think me
Wrought in a loom, some Dutch piece weav'd at Mortlake?[212]