Mill. Most excellent!
Warn. And thereupon, but base——
Enter Moody.
Mill. Something he would tell us; but see what luck's here!
Mood. How now, sirrah? Are you so great there already?
Mill. I find my father's jealous of him still.
Warn. Sir, I was only teaching my young lady a new song, and if you please you shall hear it.
SINGS.
Make ready, fair lady, to-night, And stand at the door below; For I will be there, To receive you with care, And to your true love you shall go.