_Fra_. The sun whose busie eye is still employ'd A spie upon our actions, tir'd with waiting, Is drowsie gone to bed, about whose pillow Night hath hung all her wings and set up tapers As if the Day were timerous like a Child And must have lights to sleepe by. Welcome all The houres that governe pleasure, but be slow When you have blest me with my wishes. Time And Love should dwell like twins; make this your bower And charme the aire to sweetnes and to silence. Favour me now and you shall change your states; Time shall be old no more, I will contract With Destiny, if he will spare his winges To give him youth and beauty, that we may Find every minute a fresh child of pleasure. Love shall be proud to be no more a boy But grow to perfect strength and bold consistence[273]; For when too Active Lovers meet, so happie As wee, whose equall flames light to embraces, Twill be no weight to number many yeares In our delights and thinke all age a blessing. But language is to narrow to expresse What I expect, tis fitt my soule retire Till she present her selfe; and, if it can Measure my hop'd for ioyes with thought, prepare To entertaine the happines. [_Exit_. [SCENE 5.] _Sir Richard and his Lady abed. Enter Dorothy with a Light_. _Do_. I have set already my designe a moveing To take my Captaine _Underwit_, who in wine Was late more feirie upon me. I'th meane tyme I cannot choose but laugh at the device Wee have to cheat my Master; sure the Divell Is a great friend to women that love men, He doth so furnish us with quaint inventions. Presently after supper she began Her fitt othe toothach, and did counterfeit So naturally; but since she went to bed She almost rav'd by turnes:--I heare her at it. _La_. Oh--oh, whoe's there? _Do_. Tis I forsooth, I heard you groane and I Have not the hart to sleepe. Shall I watch by you? _La. Oh, no, no, no; get you to bed, make fast the Chamber; I cannot endure the candle. [_Dorothy towards the dore putts out the Candle and returnes_. _Ri_. Deare hart be patient. _La_. I, you have your homilies of patience, but if you had my paine twould make you wild. Oh! _Ri_. Ile send for the _french_ toothdrawer in the morning. _La_. Oh, there is no rack nor torture like it. What shall I do? I shall never sleepe agen. _Ri_. Which tooth ist? _Do_.--The sweet one you may be sure which troubles her. _La_. This, this, O that there. _Ri_. They are happie that are old and have no teeth. _La_. Oh, take heed, now it shoots up to my head. _Ri_. Thou dost make my head ake with the noise. _La_. If you knew what I suffer your head would ake indeed. I must rise and walke in the Chamber; there is no remedy. _Ri_. You will catch more cold. _La_. Oh, no, no, deere life, do not crosse me; and you were in my torment you would rise and trie any thing for a little ease. It cannot be worse; the paine sure came with a cold, and who knowes but an other cold may cure me.