Sec. Have you ere a gentlewomans picture in the house, or noe?
Por. Why? 120
Sec. If you have, doe but hange it yonder, & twill make mee act in conye.
Por. Well then, away about your geere.
[Exeunt.
Enter Prologue.
Wee are noe vagabones, wee ar no arrant
Rogues that doe runne with plaies about the country.
Our play is good, & I dare farther warrantF. 79v rev.
It will make you more sport then catt in plum tree.
Wee are no saucye common playenge skipiackes,
But towne borne lads, the kings owne lovely subiects.
This is the night, night latest of the twelve, 130
Now give vs leave for to bee blith & frolicke,
To morrow wee must fall to digg & delve;
Weele bee but short, long sittinge breeds the collicke.
Then wee beginne, & lett none hope to hisse vs,
The play wee play is Ovid's owne Narcissus.
Cephisus, Lyriope, Narcissus.
[Cep.] Open thine eares, my sonne, open I bidd
To heare the sound saw which the sage shall reed,
I meane the sage Tyresias, my ducke,
Which shall lay ope to thee thy lott, thy lucke.
Thy father I, Cephisus, that brave river 140
Who is all water, doe like water shiver.
As any man of iudgment may descrye
By face, hands washt, & bowle, thy father I.