Tro. I will be patient; outwardly I will.[2221]
Cres. You look upon that sleeve; behold it well.[2222]
He loved me—O false wench!—Give't me again.
Dio. Whose was't? 70
Cres. It is no matter, now I have't again.[2223]
I will not meet with you to-morrow night:
I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more.
Ther. Now she sharpens: well said, whetstone!
Dio. I shall have it.[2224]
Cres. What, this?
Dio. Ay, that. 75
Cres. O, all you gods! O pretty, pretty pledge!
Thy master now lies thinking in his bed[2225]
Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kisses to it,[2226]
As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from me;[2226][2227] 80
He that takes that doth take my heart withal.[2228]
Dio. I had your heart before; this follows it.