_La._ 'Tis time you were a bed. _Ju._ I prethee sweet-heart Consider my necessity, why art sad? I must tell you a tale in your ear anon. _Nur._ Of _Tom Thumb_. I believe that will prove your stiffest story. _New._ I pitty the young wench. _1._ And so do I too. _2._ Come, old sticks take fire. _1._ But the plague is, he'll burn out instantly; Give him another cup. _2._ Those are but flashes, A tun of sack wonot set him high enough. Will ye to bed? _M._ I must. _1._ Come, have a good heart, And win him like a bowle to lye close to you, Make your best use. _Ju._ Nay prethee Duck go instantly, I'll dance a Jig or two to warm my body. _Enter_ Wildbrain. _Wild._ 'Tis almost midnight. _La._ Prethee to bed _Maria_. _Wild._ Go you afore, and let the Ladies follow, And leave her to her thoughts a while, there must be A time of taking leave of these same fooleries Bewailling others maiden-heads. _La._ Come then, We'll wait in the next room. _Ju._ Do not tarry. For if thou dost, by my troth I shall fall asleep _Mall_. [_Ex._ _Wi[l]._ Do, do, and dream of Doterels, get you to bed quickly, And let us ha'no more stir, come now, no crying, 'Tis too late now, carry your sel[fe] discreetly. The old thief loves thee dearly, that's the benefit. For the rest you must make your own play, Nay not that way, They'll pull ye all to pieces, for your whim-whams, Your garters and your gloves, go modestly, And privately steal to bed, 'tis very late _Mall_, For if you go by them such a new larum. _Ma._ I know not which way to avoid'em. _Wi._ This way, This through the Cloysters: and so steal to bed, When you are there once, all will separate And give ye rest, I came out of my pitty To shew you this. _Ma._ I thank you. _Wi._ Here's the keyes, Go presently and lock the doors fast after ye, That none shall follow. _Ma._ Good night. _Wi._ Good night sweet Cosen. A good, and sweet night, or I'll curse thee _Frank_. [_Exit._ _Enter_ Frank Hartlove _Fra._ She stays long, sure young _Wildgoose_ has abus'd me, He has made sport wi'me, I may yet get out again, And I may see his face once more, I ha'foul intentions, But they are drawn on by a fouler dealing _Enter_ Maria. Hark, hark, it was the door, Something comes this way, wondrous still and stealing May be some walking spirit to affright me. _Ma._ Oh heaven my fortune. _Fr._ 'Tis her voice, stay. _Ma._ Save me, Bless me you better powers. _Fr._ I am no devil. _Ma._ Y'are little better to disturb me now. _Fr._ My name is _Hartlove_. _Ma._ Fye, fye, worthy friend. Fye noble Sir.