Rod. Peter de Lions is your Lordships servant,
A boone companion and a lusty knave.
He is in love with Bellamiraes mayd,
And by that love he may bestead your Highnesse
More then your best friends in your best designes.
Call him forth.
Burb. What! Peter!
Enter Peter.
Pet. Here, my Lord.
Burb. Why dost thou looke so wildly?
Pet. Not with drinke Nor yet with rage.
Rod. His lookes are wild with love.
Pet. With love, surreverence[110]? can there be a face
In all the world patcht up with eyes and lips,
A forhead and a payre of crimson cheeks,
To make me doat on, to make me looke wild?
Rod. Come, come, tis knowne that you love Thomasin.
Pet. Zounds they that know that know my heart & all: I have not the power to deny it, tis most true.