Frank. O, very ill, sir.
Car. Yes,
I think so; but ’tis well you can speak yet:
There’s no music but in sound; sound it must be.
I have not wept these twenty years before,
And that I guess was ere that girl was born;
Yet now methinks, if I but knew the way,
My heart’s so full, I could weep night and day. [Exit with Frank.
SCENE IV.—Before Sir Arthur Clarington’s House.
Enter Sir Arthur Clarington, Warbeck, and Somerton.
Sir Arth. Come, gentlemen, we must all help to grace
The nimble-footed youth of Edmonton,
That are so kind to call us up to-day
With an high morris.
War. I could wish it for the best, it were the worst now. Absurdity’s in my opinion ever the best dancer in a morris.
Som. I could rather sleep than see ’em.
Sir Arth. Not well, sir?
Som. ’Faith, not ever thus leaden: yet I know no cause for’t.