Jul. I strongly wish, for what I faintly hope:
Like the day-dreams of melancholy men,
I think and think on things impossible,
Yet love to wander in that golden maze.
Enter DON MANUEL, HIPPOLITO, and company.
Amid. Madam, your brother's here.
Man. Where is the bridegroom?
Hip. Not yet returned, sir, from his ship.
Man. Sister, all this good company is met, To give you joy.
Jul. While I am compassed round
With mirth, my soul lies hid in shades of grief,
Whence, like the bird of night, with half shut eyes,
She peeps, and sickens at the sight of day. [Aside.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Sir, some gentlemen and ladies are without, Who, to do honour to this wedding, come To present a masque.
Man. Tis well; desire them They would leave put the words, and fall to dancing. The poetry of the foot takes most of late.