1. 'Tis not Maria.
Ha. Her shadow is enough, I'll dwell with that,
Pursue your own ways, shall we live together?
Ma. If her will come to morrow and tauge to her, her will tell her more of her meanings, and then if her be melancholy, her will sing her a Welch Song too, to make her merries, but Guenith was very honest; her was never love but one sentleman, and he was bear her great teal of good-ills too, was marry one day S. Davy, her give her five pair of white gloves, if her will dance at her weddings.
Ha. All I am worth,
And all my hopes this strange voice would forsake her,
For then she shud be—prethee stay a little,
Hark in thine ear, dissemble not, but tell me,
And save my life; I know you are Maria:
Speak but as I doe, ten words to confirm me;
You have an English soul, do not disguise it
From me with these strange accents—She pinch'd hard
Again, and sigh'd.
La. What ails the Wench? [Exit.
Nur. Why, Guenith.
Ha. She's gone too.
2. Come leave this dream.
Ha. A dream? I think so;
But 'twas a pleasing one, now I'll obey,
And forget all these wonders, lead the way. [Exeunt.