And you shall mend your fortunes, mending hers.
Vic. (aside.) How like an angel’s, speaks the tongue of woman,
When pleading in another’s cause her own!—
That is a pretty ring upon your finger.
Pray give it me. (Tries to take the ring.)
Pre. No; never from my hand
Shall that be taken!
Vic. Why, ’tis but a ring.
I’ll give it back to you; or, if I keep it,
Will give you gold to buy you twenty such.