Lord. That you shall see: the humour is, that two men at a time are hoisted up: when they are above, they name their ladies, and the rest of the company dance about them while they drink: This they call the frolic of the altitudes.
Mood. Some highlander's invention, I'll warrant it.
Lord. Gentlemen-maskers, you shall begin.
[They hoist Sir Mart. and Warn.
Sir John. They point to Mrs Millisent and Mrs Christian, A Lou's touche! touche!
[While they drink, the company dances and sings: They are taken down.
Mood. A rare toping health this: Come, Sir John, now you and I will be in our altitudes.
Sir John. What new device is this, trow?
Mood. I know not what to make on't.
[When they are up, the company dances
about them: They dance off. Tony dances a jigg.
Sir John. Pray, Mr Fool, where's the rest of your company? I would fain see 'em again.
[To Tony.
Land. Come down, and tell them so, Cudden.
Sir John. I'll be hanged if there be not some plot in it, and this fool is set here to spin out the time.