Cour. Madam!
Sylv. Are you very much in love, sir?
Cour. Oh, damnably, child, damnably.
Sylv. I am sorry for't with all my heart: good-night, captain.
Cour. Ha, gone! what, left in Erasmus' paradise, between Heaven and hell? If the constable should take me now for a straggling monkey hung by the loins, and hunt me with his cry of watchmen? Ah, woman, woman, woman! Well, a merry life and a short, that's all.
[Sings] God prosper long our noble king,
Our lives and safeties all!
I am mighty loyal to-night.
Enter Fourbin and Bloody-Bones, as from Sir Davy Dunce's House.
Four. Murder, murder, murder! help, help, murder!
Cour. Nay, if there be murder stirring, 'tis high time to shift for myself. [Climbs up to the balcony.