Ros. Look, what you do, you do it still i’ th’ dark.
025 Kath. So do not you, for you are a light wench.
Ros. Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light.
Kath. You weigh me not?—O, that’s you care not for me.
[028] Ros. Great reason; for ‘past cure is still past care.’
Prin. Well bandied both; a set of wit well play’d.
030 But, Rosaline, you have a favour too:
Who sent it? and what is it?
Ros.
I would you knew: