Mort. O, I am ignorance itself in this!
Glend. She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down[2700]
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you215
And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep[2701]
As is the difference betwixt day and night
The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team220
Begins his golden progress in the east.[2702]
Mort. With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing:
By that time will our book, I think, be drawn.
Glend. Do so;
And those musicians that shall play to you[2703]225
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,[2704]
And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend.[2705]
Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down:[2706]
come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.[2706]
Lady P. Go, ye giddy goose.230
[The music plays.[2707]
Hot. Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;[2708]
And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.[2708]
By'r lady, he is a good musician.[2708]
Lady P. Then should you be nothing but musical, for[2708][2709]
you are altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye[2708][2710]235
thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.[2708]
Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.[2711]