MERCATORE.
A, gooda my friend, do axe-a me no shush a question,
For he dat will live in the world must be of the world sure;
And de world will love his own, so long as the world endure.
DISSIMULATION.
I commend your wit, sir; but here comes my lady.
Enter LUCRE.
MERCATORE.
Come hither: here's to tree crowns for de speak me.
DISSIMULATION.
Well, sir, I thank you: I will go speak for you.
LUCRE.
Master Davy Dissimulation, what new acquaintance have ye gotten there?
DISSIMULATION.
Such a one, madam, that unto your state hath great care;
And surely in my mind the gentleman is worthy
To be well-thought on for his liberality, bounty, and great care
to seek ye.
LUCRE. Gentleman, you are heartily welcome: how are you called, I pray you tell us?
MERCATORE.
Madonna, me be a mershant, and be call'd Signer Mercatore.
LUCRE.
But, I pray you, tell me what countryman?