Bust. My faults never mount so high (girl) they rise but to
My middle at most. Strike up Diego.
Ger. Follow me by the ear, I'll lead thee on (Bustofa) and
Pretty Florimel thy Sister: oh that I could see her.
Bust. Oh Diego, there's two pities upon thee; great pitie thou art blind;
And as great a pitie, thou canst not see.
SONG.
Ger. You shall have Crowns of Roses, Daysies,
Buds, where the honey-maker gazes;
You shall taste the golden thighs,
Such as in Wax-Chamber lies.
What fruit please you, taste, freely pull,
Till you have all your bellies full.
Come follow me, &c.
Bust. Oh, Diego, the Don was not so sweet when he
perfum'd the Steeple. [Exeunt.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Antonio and Martine.
Mar. Why, how now (Friend) thou art not lost agen?