SIR REU. It will admit no delay, Sir Amadin, I assure you. We have not overwatched this night to no purpose. This very morning by times we must be fitted with our properties, and with a scornful neglect pass by that rendezvous where our gamesome ladies expect their youthful Platonics. SIR GRE. Revenge to me 's far sweeter than to live. ALL. To't, to't; for love's sake, let us to't. SIR REU. The plot is laid with such industrious skill, If this take not, I do not know what will. [_Exeunt._ ACT IV., SCENE 1. _Enter_ MADAM FRICASE, MADAM CAVEARE, MADAM JULIPPE, MADAM JOCULETTE, MADAM MEDLAR, MADAM TINDER. FRI. How tedious morns these be in our expectance Of what we tender most? CAV. Credit me, madam, My marriage-day from th' rising sun to night Seem'd not so long, though it was long enough-- As the slow-running course of this morn's visit. JUL. Desires cannot endure protractive hours; The poet has confirm'd our thoughts in this, Placing our action far below our wish: "Sooner quenched is love's fire With fruition than desire." JOC. That poet surely was neither Mantuan, Lucian, nor Claudian. MED. No, sister; nor Alcæus, Eubæus, nor Apuleius; but some cold cucumber-spirit--Xenocrates, who never actually knew how to hug his mistress. TIN. This is the hour and place. FRI. It is so; and no doubt but our feathered favourites have overflown us. SCENE II. _Enter_ VINTRESS _and_ DRAWERS. VIN. What do you lack, my princely beauties? CAV. What your sex cannot furnish us with, my dainty Dabrides. Did you entertain no gallants lately? VIN. Not any, madam; but gallants are men of their words; they will stand to their tacking upon occasion: will you be pleased, noble ladies, in their absence to bestow yourselves in a room; or, to procreate yourselves, take a turn in the garden? MED. 'Slid, does she hold us for Andalusian studs,[163] that can breed by the air, or procreate of ourselves? FRI. Well, her meaning is good; we will accept her offer, and take a walk or a cheerful repose at our pleasure: and in it let each of us, for want of more real objects, entertain an imaginary apprehension of their absent lover. [_Knocking within._ DRAW. Anon, anon, sir; quick, quick as Erebus, good Jeremy! Uds so, what a chattering they make? I verily think our old Tityre Tu's and Bugle Blews are come to town, they keep such a damnable quarter. 2D DRAW. They knock as they were madmen in the percullis. Quick, quick; more attendants in the _Unicorn_. There goes none to the _Antwerp_. The _Lion_ and the _Roebuck_[164] have not one drawer to attend them. Who goes into the Ladies' Garden?[165] 1ST DRAW. We shall have a brave term, if we stir not our stumps better. [_Exeunt._ _The Ladies' Garden._--JULLIPPE, &c.