Gog’s heart, slave, dost thou think I am a six-penny jug?
No, wis ye, Jack, I look a little more smug.
Snuff.
I will give her eighteenpence to serve me first.
Meretrix.
Gramercy, Snuff, thou art not the worst.
Ruff.
By Gog’s heart, she were better be hanged, to forsake me, and take thee.
Snuff.
Were she so? that shall we see.