Fred. Then come in softly,
And as ye love your faith, presume no further
Than ye have promised.
John. Basta.
Fred. What make you up so early Sir?
John. You Sir in your contemplations.
Pet. O pray ye peace Sir.
Fred. Why peace Sir?
Pet. Do you hear?
John. 'Tis your Lute.
Fred. Pray ye speak softly,
She's playing on't.
Ant. The house is haunted Sir,
For this we have heard this half year.