STEP. Oh, it's here; nay, an it had been lost, I had not cared but
for a jet ring Marina sent me.

LOR. JU. A jet ring! oh, the poesie, the poesie!

STEP. Fine, i'faith: "Though fancy sleep, my love is deep":
meaning that though I did not fancy her, yet she loved me dearly.

LOR. JU. Most excellent.

STEP. And then I sent her another, and my poesie was:
"The deeper the sweeter, I'll be judged by Saint Peter."

LOR. JU. How, by St. Peter? I do not conceive that.

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

LOR JU. Well, you are beholding to that Saint, he help'd you at
your need; thank him, thank him.

MUS. 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's 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:
howe'er, vouchsafe to remember it is my want speaks, not myself:
this condition agrees not with my spirit.