I cannot find my legs yet, now _Petella_. _Pi._ I am amaz'd, I am founder'd in my fancies. _Mir._ Hah, say ye so; is this your gravitie? This the austeritie ye put upon ye? I'le see more o' this sport. _Lil._ A Song now; Call in for a merry, and a light Song, And sing it with a liberal spirit. _Enter a Man._ _Man._ Yes, Madam. _Lil._ And be not amaz'd Sirrah, but take us for your own company. Let's walk our selves: come wench, would we had a man or two. _Pi._ Sure she has spi'd me, and will abuse me dreadfully, She has put on this for the purpose; yet I will try her. Madam, I would be loth my rude intrusion, Which I must crave a pardon for-- _Lil._ O ye are welcom, Ye are very welcom, Sir, we want such a one; Strike up again: I dare presume ye dance well: Quick, quick, Sir, quick, the time steals on. _Pi._ I would talk with ye. _Lil._ Talk as ye dance. _Mir._ She'l beat him off his legs first, This is the finest Masque. _Lil._ Now how do ye, Sir? _Pi._ You have given me a shrewd heat. _Lil._ I'le give ye a hundred. Come sing now, sing; for I know ye sing well, I see ye have a singing face. _Pi._ A fine Modesty! If I could, she'd never give me breath, Madam would I might sit and recover. _Lil._ Sit here, and sing now, Let's do things quickly, Sir, and handsomly, Sit close wench, close, begin, begin. [_Song._ _Pi._ I am lesson'd. _Lil._ 'Tis very pretty i'faith, give me some wine now. _Pi._ I would fain speak to ye. _Lil._ You shall drink first, believe me: Here's to ye a lusty health. _Pi._ I thank ye Lady, Would I were off again; I smell my misery; I was never put to this rack; I shall be drunk too. _Mir._ If thou be'st not a right one, I have lost mine aim much: I thank Heaven that I have scap'd thee; To her _Pinac_; For thou art as sure to have her, and to groan for her-- I'le see how my other youth does; this speeds trimly: A fine grave Gentlewoman, and worth much honour. [_Exit._ _Lil._ Now? how do ye like me, Sir? _Pi._ I like ye rarely. _Lil._ Ye see, Sir, though sometimes we are grave and silent, And put on sadder dispositions, Yet we are compounded of free parts, and sometimes too Our lighter, airie, and our fierie mettles Break out, and shew themselves; and what think you of that Sir? _Pi._ Good Lady sit, for I am very weary; And then I'le tell ye. _Lil._ Fie, a young man idle? Up, and walk; be still in action. The motions of the body are fair beauties, Besides 'tis cold; ods-me Sir, let's walk faster, What think ye now of the Lady _Felicia_? And _Bella-fronte_ the Dukes fair Daughter? ha? Are they not handsom things? there is _Duarta_, And brown _Olivia_. _Pi._ I know none of 'em.