Celant. I thinke this be the curstest queane in the world. You see what she is, a little faire, but as prowd as the divell, and the veriest vixen that lives upon Gods earth. Well, Ile let hir alone, and goe 590 home and get another pitcher, and for all this get me to the well for water.
Exit.
Enter two Furies out of the Conjurers cell and laies Huanebango by the Well of Life.
Enter Zantippa with a pitcher to the Well.
Zant. Once againe for a husband, & in faith, Celanta, I have got the start of you. Belike husbands growe by the Well side. Now my father sayes I must rule my tongue: why, alas, what am I then? 595 A woman without a tongue is as a souldier without his weapon; but Ile have my water and be gon.
Heere she offers to dip her pitcher in, and a head speakes in the Well.
Head. Gently dip, but not too deepe,[1104]
For feare you make the golden birde[1105] to weepe,
Faire maiden, white and red, 600
Stroke me smoothe, and combe my head,