'Tis a madness that he
Should be jealous of me,
Or that I should bar him of another:
For all we can gain,
Is to give ourselves pain,
When neither can hinder the other.
Enter Palamede, in a riding-habit, and hears the Song. Re-enter Doralice and Beliza.
Bel. Madam, a stranger.
Dor. I did not think to have had witnesses of my bad singing.
Pala. If I have erred, madam, I hope you'll pardon the curiosity of a stranger; for I may well call myself so, after five years absence from the court: but you have freed me from one error.