But I perceive thou dost me throughly know.
M. Merry. I mark your manners for mine own learning, I trow.
But such is your beauty, and such are your acts,
Such is your personage, and such are your facts,[60]
That all women, fair and foul, more and less,
They eye you, they lub[61] you, they talk of you doubtless.
Your pleasant look maketh them all merry:
Ye pass not by, but they laugh, till they be weary:
Yea, and money could I have, the truth to tell,
Of many, to bring you that way where they dwell.