Mine was i'th' clipse, and had a Cloud drawn over it.
But I believe well, and I hope 'tis handsome,
She had a hand would stir a holy Hermite.

Juan de Castro:

You know none of 'em?

Michael Perez:

No.

Juan de Castro:

Then I do, Captain,
174] But I'll say nothing till I see the proof on't,
Sit close _Don Perez_, or your Worship's caught.
I fear a Flye.

Michael Perez:

Were those she brought Love-Letters?

Juan de Castro:

A Packet to a Kinsman now in _Flanders_,
Yours was very modest methought.

Michael Perez: