[Enter Sir Oliver Muck-hill, and Sir Andrew Tip-staff.]
MUCK.
Bless you, sweet Lady.
TIP.
And you, fair Mistress.
[Exit Frailty.]
WIDOW. Coades? what do you mean, Gentlemen? fie, did I not give you your answers?
MUCK.
Sweet Lady.
WIDOW.
Well, I will not stick with you now for a kiss.
Daughter, kiss the Gentleman for once.
FRANCES.
Yes, forsooth.
TIP.
I’m proud of such a favour.
WIDOW. Truly la, sir Oliver, y’are much to blame to come again, when you know my mind, so well deliverd as a Widdow could deliver a thing.