Phil. With your pardon, sir, not for me
And my female?
Mir. No, faith, I'll blow it out,
If he does.
Art. Sir, though in my own desires
I should have chose the man that you have given me,
Yet I beg we may not marry yet; we have
Call'd brother and sister so long, that yet
We needs must think we are so still.
Arb. Pray, madam,
Let's think so as little a while as we can,
That fancy may not keep my joy in prison.
Duke. Let's to the temple now, and there thank
Heaven for these unexpected joys.
Each day the gods shall lend me in this life,
I'll thank them for a sister and a wife. [Exeunt.
FOOTNOTES:
[75] [Old copy, he.]
[76] [See Thoms' "Anecdotes and Traditions," 1839, p. 95.]