As peacocks sit perking by chance in the plumtree;
So maids would be masters by the guise of this country.
Haphazard each state full well that he marks,
If hap the sky fall, we may hap to have larks.
Well, fare ye well now for better or worse:
Put hands to your pockets, have mind to your purse.
[Exit.
Enter Judge Appius.
The furrowed face of fortune’s force my pinching pain doth move:
I, settled ruler of my realm, enforced am to love.