Laf. Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon:
[To Parolles] Good Tom Drum, lend me a [handkercher]: [so,]
[I thank] thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee:
Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.
King. Let us from point to point this story know,
To make the even truth in pleasure flow.
[[To Diana]] If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,
Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower;
For I can guess that by thy honest aid
[Thou kept'st] a wife herself, thyself a maid.