So sower a face upon it, and to her,
My bed embracer, my right bosome friend.
I would not that she should have seene the letter,
As poore a man as I am, by my troth, 200
For twenty pound: well, I am glad I have it.— [Aside.]
Ha, heres adoe about a thing of nothing!
What, stomack, ha! tis happy you come downe.
Exit.
Mi. Gou. Well, craftie[1743] fox, Ile hunt ye, by my troth:
Deale ye so closely? Well, I see his drift: 205