Most willingly; here’s a song: but young Hughes must sing it or Selden: my voice is rough.
[Young Hughes takes up the viol, and sings.]
Chettle:
[After the first verse.] And now, ladies, what will ye drink—canary or sack?
Lady Jane Wroth:
I’ll take Charnikoe, I think; the wine of Bourdeaux, you know: ’tis all the fashion now.
Miss Fitton:
I ought to have been born a man and not a girl, for I like sack, it’s strong and sweet!
[Lady Rutland waives off the wine.]
Chettle: