Acut. Now for the cunning vizarding of them & tis done.
Hostis. Now we shall beholde the showes.
Get. Acteon and his Dogs, I pray Jupiter.
Enter the maske and the Song.
Chaunt birds in everie bush,
The blackbird and the Thrush,
The chirping Nightingale,
The Mavis and Wagtaile,
The Linnet and the Larke,
Oh how they begin, harke, harke.
Scil. S'lid, there's one bird, I doe not like her voice.
Sing againe & Exeunt.
Hostis. By my troth, me thought one should be my husband, I could even discerne his voice through the vizard.
Cittie wife. And truely by his head one should be mine.
Get. And surely by his eares one should be my sweet heart.