Scat. God give you good night, forsooth,
And send you an early resurrection.
Wid. Good night to both.
Sir Lionel. Come, come away, each bird unto his nest;
To-morrow night's a time of little rest.
[Exeunt. Manent Widow and Phillis.
Wid. Here, untie: soft, let it alone;
I have no disposition to sleep yet:
Give me a book, and leave me for a while,
Some half-hour hence look in to me.
Phil. I shall, forsooth.
[Exit Phillis.
Enter Spendall.
Wid. How now! what makes this bold intrusion?
Spend. Pardon me, lady, I have business to you.
Wid. Business! from whom? Is it of such importance,
That it craves present hearing?