The Scene Spaine. The principal Actors were _Joseph Tailor_, _John Lowin_, _John Underwood_, _William Rowly_, _John Thomson_, _Robert Benfield_, _Tho. Polard_. _Actus Primus. Scæna Prima._ _Enter_ Lisauro, Terzo, Ismenia, _and_ Aminta. _Lis._ Let the Coach go round, we'll walk along these Meadows: And meet at Port again: Come my fair Sister, These cool shades will delight ye. _Am._ Pray be merry, The Birds sing as they meant to entertain ye, Every thing smiles abroad; methinks the River (As he steals by) curles up his head, to view ye: Every thing is in love. _Ism._ You would have it so. You that are fair, are easie of belief, Cosen, The theam slides from your tongue. _Am._ I fair? I thank ye: Mine's but shadow when your Sun shines by me. _Ism._ No more of this, you know your worth (_Aminta_) Where are we now? _Am._ Hard by the Town (_Ismena_). _Ter._ Close by the Gates. _Ism._ 'Tis a fine Ayr. _Lis._ A delicate; The way so sweet and even, that the Coach Would be a tumbling trouble to our pleasures: Methinks I am very merry: _Ism._ I am sad: _Am._ You are ever so when we entreat ye (Cosen) _Ism._ I have no reason: such a trembling here Over my heart methinks: _Am._ Sure you are fasting; Or not slept well to night; some dream (_Ismena_?) _Ism._ My dreams are like my thoughts, honest and innocent, Yours are unhappy; who are these that coast us? [_Enter Antonio and Martin._ You told me the walk was private. _Ter._ 'Tis most commonly: _Ism._ Two proper men: It seems they have some business, With me none sure; I do not like their faces; They are not of our Company: _Ter._ No Cosen: _Lisauro_, we are dog'd. _Lis._ I find it (Cosen) _Ant._ What handsome Lady? _Mar._ Yes, she's very handsome. They are handsome both. _Ant. Martin_, stay we are cosen'd. _Mar._ I will go up; a woman is no wild-fire. _Ant._ Now by my life she is sweet: Stay good _Martin_, They are of our enemies; the house of _Bellides_. Our mortal enemies: _Mar._ Let 'em be devils, They appear so handsomly, I will go forward; If these be enemies, I'll ne'r seek friends more. _Ant._ Prethee forbear, the Gentlewomen. _Mar._ That's it (man) That moves me like a Gin. 'Pray ye stand off Ladies: _Lis._ They are both our enemies: both hate us equally; By this fair day our mortal foes. _Ter._ I know 'em, And come here to affront: how they gape at us! They shall have gaping work. _Ism._ Why your swords, Gentlemen? _Ter._ Pray ye stand you off, Cosen, And good now leave your whistling: we are abus'd all: Back, back I say: _Lis._ Go back.