[053] Note, notes, forsooth, and nothing. [Air.
Bene. Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it 055 not strange that sheeps’ guts should hale souls out of men’s bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all’s done.
The Song.
Balth.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore,
060 To one thing constant never:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,