Flo. Our instancy
Begs so much favour.
Car. It will cheer our spirits
In the relation of your fair proceedings.
Mor. Where th' issue crown'd your suit with that success,
No fates seem'd more propitious.
Pal.We must leave't;
You know what longing means.
Sal.Come, who begins?
Ladies. Stay, gallants, wing not your too speedy course
With such Pegasian quickness; our consent
Should go along: our interests are concern'd
To perfect your desires.
Flo. And we presume
Your acquiescence will accomplish it.
Our mutual loves close in that harmony
That, though the airs of music still admit
Their closure in divisions, our joint strings,
So sweetly tun'd, may run their diapason
Without a discord.
Fri. By which sense we gather,
That we must prove your fiddlers?
Flo. You mistake me.
We hold you instruments; your fancies, strings,
To actuate our motion with that fulness
Arion ne'er attain'd to.
Ladies. We must yield,
Or they will storm us.