Beau. Only one thing more, my noble knight, and then we are entirely at thy disposal.
Sir Jol. Well, and what's that? What's the business?
Beau. This friend of mine here stands in need of thy assistance; he's damnably in love, Sir Jolly.
Sir Jol. In love! is he so? In love! odds my life! Is she? what's her name? where does she live? I warrant you I know her: she's in my table-book, I'll warrant you: virgin, wife, or widow? [Pulls out a table-book.
Cour. In troth, Sir Jolly, that's something of a difficult question; but, as virgins go now, she may pass for one of them.
Sir Jol. Virgin, very good: let me see; virgin, virgin, virgin; oh, here are the virgins; truly, I meet with the fewest of this sort of any. Well, and the first letter of her name now? for a wager I guess her.
Cour. Then you must know, Sir Jolly, that I love my love with an S.
Sir Jol. S, S, S, oh, here are the Esses; let me consider now—Sappho?
Cour. No, sir.
Sir Jol. Selinda?