Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Tim. Well fare you Gentleman: giue me your hand.
Tim. We must needs dine together: sir your Iewell
Tim. Hath suffered vnder praise.
Iewel. Iewel.
Iewel. What my Lord, dispraise?
Tim. Tim.
Tim. A meere saciety of Commendations,
Tim. If I should pay you for't as 'tis extold,
Tim. It would vnclew me quite.
Iewel. My Lord, 'tis rated
Iewel. As those which sell would giue: but you well know,
Iewel. Things of like valew differing in the Owners,
Iewel. Are prized by their Masters. Beleeu't deere Lord,
Iewel. You mend the Iewell by the wearing it.
Tim. Well mock'd.
Tim. Enter Apermantus.
Mer. Mer.
Mer. No my good Lord, he speakes yͤ common toong