[Enter Fenton.]
120 Fent. How now, good woman! how dost thou?
Quick. The better that it pleases your good worship to ask.
Fen. What news? how does pretty Mistress Anne?
Quick. In truth, sir, and she is pretty, and honest, and I. 4.
125 gentle; and one that is your friend, I can tell you that by the way; I praise heaven for it.
Fent. Shall I do any good, thinkest thou? shall I not lose my suit?
Quick. Troth, sir, all is in his hands above: but notwithstanding, 130 Master Fenton, I’ll be sworn on a book, she loves you. Have not your worship a wart [above] your eye?
Fent. Yes, marry, have I; [what of that]?
Quick. Well, thereby hangs a tale:—good faith, it is such another Nan; but, I detest, an honest maid as ever 135 broke bread:—we had an hour’s talk of that wart. —I shall never laugh but in that maid’s company!—But, indeed, she is given too much to allicholy and musing: but for you—well, go to.
Fent. Well, I shall see her to-day. Hold, there’s 140 money for thee; let me have thy voice in my behalf: if thou seest her before me, commend me.