Tormented as I, Sir Guy? de derry down,
For Lucy's sake, that lady bright, down, down,
As ever man beheld with eye? de derry down."
Merch. I'll be revenged, by heaven! [Exeunt.
Finis Actus Secundi. [Music.
Wife. How dost thou like this, George?
Cit. Why this is well, dovey; but if Ralph were hot once, thou shouldst see more.
Wife. The fiddlers go again, husband.
Cit. Ay, Nell, but this is scurvy music; I gave the young gallows money, and I think he has not got me the waits of Southwark. If I hear 'em not anon, I'll twing him by the ears. You musicians, play Baloo.
Wife. No, good George, let's have Lachrymæ.