KN. So, sir, and how then, coz?

STE. 'Sfoot, I have lost my purse, I think.

E. KN. How? Lost your purse? Where? When had you it?

STE. I cannot tell, stay.

BRA. 'Slid, I am afeared, they will know me, would I could get by them.

 

Goes aside

 

E. KN. What? Ha' you it?

STE. No, I think I was bewitched, I –

E. KN. Nay, do not weep the loss, hang it, let it go.

STE. Oh, it's here: no, and it had been lost, I had not cared, but for a jet ring Mistress Mary sent me.

E. KN. A jet ring? Oh, the posy, the posy?

STE. Fine, i' faith! »Though fancy sleep, my love is deep.« Meaning that though I did not fancy her, yet she loved me dearly.

E. KN. Most excellent!

STE. And then, I sent her another, and my posy was: »The deeper, the sweeter, I'll be judged by St. Peter.«

E. KN. How, by St. Peter? I do not conceive that!

STE. Marry, St. Peter, to make up the metre.

E. KN. Well, there the Saint was your good patron, he helped you at your need: thank him, thank him.

BRA He is come back. I cannot take leave on 'em, so: I will venture, come what will. Gentlemen, please you change a few crowns, for a very excellent good blade, here? I am a poor gentleman, a soldier, one that (in the better state of my fortunes) scorned so mean a refuge, but now it is the humour of necessity, to have it so. You seem to be gentlemen, well affected to martial men, else I should rather die with silence than live with shame: however, vouchsafe to remember, it is my want speaks, not myself.