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and others.]

       And hether came to tell you. Here they are.

       DAUGHTER. [sings.]

       May you never more enjoy the light, &c.

       Is not this a fine Song?

       BROTHER.

       O, a very fine one.

       DAUGHTER.

       I can sing twenty more.

       BROTHER.

       I thinke you can.

       DAUGHTER.

       Yes, truely, can I; I can sing the Broome,

       And Bony Robin. Are not you a tailour?

       BROTHER.

       Yes.

       DAUGHTER.

       Wher’s my wedding Gowne?

       BROTHER.

       Ile bring it to morrow.

       DAUGHTER.

       Doe, very rarely; I must be abroad else

       To call the Maides, and pay the Minstrels,

       For I must loose my Maydenhead by cock-light;

       Twill never thrive else.

       [Singes.] O faire, oh sweete, &c.

       BROTHER.

       You must ev’n take it patiently.

       IAILOR.

       Tis true.

       DAUGHTER.

       Good ev’n, good men; pray, did you ever heare

       Of one yong Palamon?

       IAILOR.

       Yes, wench, we know him.

       DAUGHTER.

       Is’t not a fine yong Gentleman?

       IAILOR.

       Tis Love.

       BROTHER.

       By no meane crosse her; she is then distemperd

       Far worse then now she showes.

       1. FRIEND.

       Yes, he’s a fine man.

       DAUGHTER.

       O, is he so? you have a Sister?

       1. FRIEND.

       Yes.

       DAUGHTER.

       But she shall never have him, tell her so,

       For a tricke that I know; y’had best looke to her,

       For if she see him once, she’s gone, she’s done,

       And undon in an howre. All the young Maydes

       Of our Towne are in love with him, but I laugh at ‘em

       And let ‘em all alone; Is’t not a wise course?

       1. FRIEND.

       Yes.

       DAUGHTER.

       There is at least two hundred now with child by him—

       There must be fowre; yet I keepe close for all this,

       Close as a Cockle; and all these must be Boyes,

       He has the tricke on’t, and at ten yeares old

       They must be all gelt for Musitians,

       And sing the wars of Theseus.

       2. FRIEND.

       This is strange.

       DAUGHTER.

       As ever you heard, but say nothing.

       1. FRIEND.

       No.

       DAUGHTER.

       They come from all parts of the Dukedome to him;

       Ile warrant ye, he had not so few last night

       As twenty to dispatch: hee’l tickl’t up

       In two howres, if his hand be in.

       IAILOR.

       She’s lost

       Past all cure.

       BROTHER.

       Heaven forbid, man.

       DAUGHTER.

       Come hither, you are a wise man.

       1. FRIEND.

       Do’s she know him?

       2. FRIEND.

       No, would she did.

       DAUGHTER.

       You are master of a Ship?

       IAILOR.

       Yes.

       DAUGHTER.

       Wher’s your Compasse?

       IAILOR.

       Heere.

       DAUGHTER.

       Set it too’th North.

       And now direct your course to’th wood, wher Palamon

       Lyes longing for me; For the Tackling

       Let me alone; Come, waygh, my hearts, cheerely!

       ALL.

       Owgh, owgh, owgh, tis up, the wind’s faire,

       Top the Bowling, out with the maine saile;

       Wher’s your Whistle, Master?

       BROTHER.

       Lets get her in.

       IAILOR.

       Vp to the top, Boy.

       BROTHER.

       Wher’s the Pilot?

       1. FRIEND.

       Heere.

       DAUGHTER.

       What ken’st thou?

       2. FRIEND.

       A faire wood.

       DAUGHTER.

       Beare for it, master: take about! [Singes.]

       When Cinthia with her borrowed light, &c. [Exeunt.]

      Scaena 2. (A Room in the Palace.)

       [Enter Emilia alone, with 2. Pictures.]

       EMILIA.

       Yet I may binde those wounds up, that must open

       And bleed to death for my sake else; Ile choose,

       And end their strife: Two such yong hansom men

       Shall never fall for me, their weeping Mothers,

       Following the dead cold ashes of their Sonnes,

       Shall never curse my cruelty. Good heaven,

       What a sweet face has Arcite! if wise nature,

       With all her best endowments, all those beuties

       She sowes into the birthes of noble bodies,

       Were here a mortall woman, and had in her

       The coy denialls of yong Maydes, yet doubtles,

       She would run mad for this man: what an eye,

       Of what a fyry sparkle, and quick sweetnes,

       Has this yong Prince! Here Love himselfe sits smyling,

       Iust such another wanton Ganimead

       Set Jove a fire with, and enforcd the god

       Snatch up the goodly Boy, and set him by him

      

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