Meg. I should choose, my Lord, a pleasing wake before it.
[_Enter _Arethusa _and _Bellario.
Are. 'Tis well my Lord y'are courting of Ladies. Is't not late Gentlemen?
Cle. Yes Madam.
Are. Wait you there. [_Exit _Arethusa.
Meg. She's jealous, as I live; look you my Lord,
The Princess has a Hilas, an Adonis.
Pha. His form is Angel-like.
Meg. Why this is he, must, when you are wed,
Sit by your pillow, like young Apollo, with
His hand and voice, binding your thoughts in sleep;
The Princess does provide him for you, and for her self.
Pha. I find no musick in these boys.
Meg. Nor I.
They can do little, and that small they do,
They have not wit to hide.