Now they begin to
Bill; how he slavers her! Gramercy _Lilly_, she spits his kisses out, and
now he offers to fumble, she falls off, (that's a good Wench) and cries
fair play above board. Who are they in the corner? As I live, a covy of
Fidlers; I shall have some Musick yet at my making free o'th' Company of
_Horners_; there's the comfort, and a Song too! He beckons for one--Sure
'tis no Anthem, nor no borrow'd Rhymes out of the School of Vertue; I will
listen-- [_A Song_.
This was never penn'd at _Geneva_, the Note's too sprightly. So, so, the
Musick's paid for, and now what follows? O that Monsieur _Miramont_ would
but keep his word; here were a Feast to make him fat with laughter; at the
most 'tis not six minutes riding from his house, nor will he break, I
hope--O are you come, Sir? the prey is in the Net, and will break in upon
occasion.
_Mir_. Thou shalt rule me, Andrew. O th'infinite fright that will assail
this Gentleman! the Quartans, Tertians, and Quotidians that will hang like
Serjeants on his Worships shoulders? the humiliation of the flesh of this
man, this grave, austere man will be wondred at. How will those solemn
looks appear to me; and that severe face, that speaks chains and shackles?
Now I take him in the nick, e're I have done with him, he had better have
stood between two panes of Wainscot, and made his recantation in the
Market, than hear me conjure him.
_And_.
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