But for a court-mistress that
studies these decorums, and knows the proportion of every cut to a
hair, knows why such a colour is cut upon such a colour, and when a
satin is cut upon six taffataes, will look that we should dive into
the depth of the cut -- Give me my scarf. Shew some ribands,
sirrah. Have you the feather?
FEAT. Ay, sir.
MER. Have you the jewel?
JEW. Yes, sir.
MER. What must I give for the hire on't?
JEW. You shall give me six crowns, sir.
MER. Six crowns! By heaven, 'twere a good deed to borrow it of
thee to shew, and never let thee have it again.
JEW. I hope your worship will not do so, sir.
MER. By Jove, sir, there be such tricks stirring, I can tell you,
and worthily too. Extorting knaves, that live by these
court-decorums, and yet -- What's your jewel worth, I pray?
JEW. A hundred crowns, sir.
MER. A hundred crowns, and six for the loan on't an hour! what's
that in the hundred for the year? These impostors would not be
hang'd! Your thief is not comparable to them, by Hercules. Well,
put it in, and the feather; you will have it and you shall, and the
pox give you good on't!
AMO. Give me my confects, my moscadini, and place those colours in
my hat.
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