Zantyppa. Why, what a prating asse is this?
Huanebango. Hir corall lippes, hir crimson chinne, 635
Hir silver teeth so white within:
Hir golden locks, hir rowling eye,
Hir pretty parts, let them goe by:
Hey ho, hath wounded me,
That I must die this day to see. 640
Za. By gogs bones, thou art a flouting knave.
"Hir corall lippes, hir crimson chinne," ka, "wilshaw."[1113]
Huan. True, my owne, and my owne because mine, & mine because mine, ha ha! Above a thousand pounds in possibilitie, and things fitting thy desire in possession. 645