Trin. Sweet madam, I read nothing but the lines of your ladyship's countenance; and desire only to kiss the skirts of your garment, if you vouchsafe me not the happiness of your white hands.
Arm. Come, give's your basket, and take it.
Trin. O, sweet! now will I never wash my mouth after, nor breathe but at my nostrils, lest I lose the taste of her finger. Armellina, I must tell you a secret, if you'll make much on't.
Arm. As it deserves. What is't?
Trin. I love you, dear morsel of modesty, I love; and so truly, that I'll make you mistress of my thoughts, lady of my revenues, and commit all my movables into your hands; that is, I'll give you an earnest kiss in the highway of matrimony.
Arm. Is this the end of all this business?
Trin. This is the end of all business, most beautiful, and most-worthy-to-be-most beautiful, lady.
Arm. Hence, fool, hence!
[Exit.