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Thou'st cull'd the best: my lips are parch'd and dry. May I(Putting his hand to the basket.)

Nay, good my Lord, I'll choose you one.

Not that: the further peach my fancy courts. (Putting his hand into the basket.) But there be dainty viands and cakes besides!

That is the reason why I bade her show it, Ere she should take it to the poor distress'd.

Ha! let me then restore my robbery; What have we here? (Taking out a picture.) Is this a present for your villager?

Yes, please you.—No, she but desired to see it.

A most refined and sentimental gossip! Or does she mean to use it as a charm To cure old aching bones?