Enter Messenger.
Mes. Here is Mistris Wynnifred from my Lady Eugenia desires to speake with your Lordshippe.
Mom. Marrie, enter, Mistris Wynnifred, even here I pray thee;—from the Lady Eugenia, doe you heare, friend?
Cla. Very easily on that side, my Lord.
Mom. Let me feele. Does not thy heart pant apace? by my hart, well labor'd Cupid, the field is yours, sir. God! and upon a very honourable composition. I am sent for now I am sure, and must even trusse, and to her.
Enter Wynnifred.
Witty Mistris Wynnifred, nay come neere, woman. I am sure this
Gentleman thinkes his Chamber the sweeter for your deare presence.
Wyn. My absence shall thanke him, my Lord.
Mom. What, rude? Mistris Wynnifred? nay faith you shall come to him, and kisse him, for his kindenesse.
Wyn. Nay good, my Lord, I'le never goe to the market for that ware, I can have it brought home to my Dore.