Doct. Be gar, me buy too, three peece for make de Cockes-combe pur the foole Earle, ha, ha, ha! [Exit.
Mer. Fortune fights lowe when such triumphe on Earles.
[Exit.
(SCENE 3.)
Enter Lassenbergh singing, Lucilia following; after the song he speakes.
Lass. O wearie of the way and of my life, Where shall I rest my sorrow-tired[77] limmes!
Luc. Rest in my bosome, rest you here, my Lord; A place securer you can no where finde.
Lass. Nor more unfit for my displeased minde. A heavie slumber calles me to the earth; Heere will I sleepe, if sleep will harbour heere.
Luc. Unhealthful is the melancholic earth:
O let my Lord rest on Lucilia's lappe.
Ile helpe to shield you from the searching ayre
And keepe the colde dampes from your gentle bloud.
Lass. Pray thee, away; for, whilst thou art so neere, No sleepe will seaze on my suspicious eyes.