Y. ART. Well, sir, about your business:—now will I Temper the cup my loathed wife shall drink [Aside, and exit.
O. ART. Daughter, methinks you are exceeding sad.
O. LUS. Faith, daughter, so thou art exceeding sad.
MRS ART. 'Tis but my countenance, for my heart is merry:
Mistress, were you as merry as you are welcome,
You should not sit so sadly as you do.
MRS MA. 'Tis but because I am seated in your place,
Which is frequented seldom with true mirth.
MRS ART. The fault is neither in the place nor me.
AMIN. How say you, lady?
To him you last did lie by!
All this is no more, praebibo tibi.
MRS MA. I thank you, sir. Mistress, this draught shall be
To him that loves both you and me!
MRS ART. I know your meaning.
ANS. Now to me,
If she have either love or charity.