War. Now am I beyond mine own condition highly disposed to mirth.
Sir Arth. Well, you may have yet a morris to help both;
To strike you in a dump, and make him merry.
Enter Sawgut with the Morris-dancers, &c.
Saw. Come, will you set yourselves in morris-ray?[444] the forebell, second-bell, tenor, and great-bell; Maid Marian[445] for the same bell. But where’s the weathercock now? the Hobby-horse?
1st Cl. Is not Banks come yet? What a spite ’tis!
Sir Arth. When set you forward, gentlemen?
1st Cl. We stay but for the Hobby-horse, sir; all our footmen are ready.
Som. ’Tis marvel your horse should be behind your foot.
2nd Cl. Yes, sir, he goes further about; we can come in at the wicket, but the broad gate must be opened for him.
Enter Cuddy Banks with the Hobby-horse, followed by the Dog.