Lil. A Song now;
Call in for a merry, and a light Song,
And sing it with a liberal spirit.
Enter a Man.
Man. Yes, Madam.
Lil. And be not amaz'd Sirrah, but take us for your own company.
Let's walk our selves: come wench, would we had a man or two.
Pi. Sure she has spi'd me, and will abuse me dreadfully,
She has put on this for the purpose; yet I will try her.
Madam, I would be loth my rude intrusion,
Which I must crave a pardon for—
Lil. O ye are welcom,
Ye are very welcom, Sir, we want such a one;
Strike up again: I dare presume ye dance well:
Quick, quick, Sir, quick, the time steals on.
Pi. I would talk with ye.
Lil. Talk as ye dance.
Mir. She'l beat him off his legs first,
This is the finest Masque.
Lil. Now how do ye, Sir?