Wife. A Tartarian? well, I wo'd the Fidlers had done, that we might see our Ralph again.
Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima.
Enter Jasper and Luce.
Jasp. Come my [deere deere], though we have lost our way,
We have not lost our selves: are you not weary
With this nights wandring, broken from your rest?
And frighted with the terror that attends
The darkness of this wild unpeopled place?
Luce. No my best friend, I cannot either fear,
Or entertain a weary thought, whilst you
(The end of all my full desires) stand by me:
Let them that lose their hopes, and live to languish
Amongst the number of forsaken Lovers,
Tell the long weary steps, and number time,
Start at a shadow, and shrink up their bloud,
Whilst I (possest with all content and quiet)
Thus take my pretty love, and thus embrace him.
Jasp. You have caught me Luce, so fast, that whilst I live
I shall become your faithful prisoner:
And wear these chains for ever. Come, sit down,
And rest your body, too too delicate
For these disturbances; so, will you sleep?
Come, do not be more able than you are,
I know you are not skilful in these Watches,
For Women are no Soldiers; be not nice,
But take it, sleep I say.
Luce. I cannot sleep.
Indeed I cannot friend.
Jasp. Why then we'll sing,
And try how that will work upon our sences.
Luce. I'll sing, or say, or any thing but sleep.