Boha. Else say that Bohan hath a barren skull,
If better motions yet then any past,
Do not more glee to make the fairie greet,
But my small son made prittie hansome shift,
To saue the Queene his Mistresse by his speed. 1930
Obiro. Yea you Ladie for his sport he made,
Shall see when least he hopes, Ile stand his friend,
Or else hee capers in a halters end.
Boha. What hang my son? I trowe not Obiran:
Ile rather die, then see him woe begon.
Enter a rownd, or some daunce at Pleasure.
Ober. Bohan be pleasd, for do they what they will,
Heere is my hand, Ile saue thy son from ill.
Exit.
Actus Quintus. Schena Prima. V. i.
Enter the Queene in a night gowne, Ladie Anderson,1941
and Nano.
La. And. My gentle friend beware in taking aire,
Your walkes growe not offensiue to your woundes.
Do. Madame I thank you of your courteous care,
My wounds are well nigh clos’d, tho sore they are.