Twice to your visor, and half once to you.
King. If you deny to dance, let’s hold more chat.
Ros. In private, then.
King.
[229] I am best pleased with that. [They converse apart.
230 Biron. White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.
Prin. Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.
[232] Biron. Nay then, two treys, an if you grow so nice,
Metheglin, wort, and malmsey: well run, dice!
There’s half-a-dozen sweets.