_Ma._ If her will come to morrow and tauge to her, her will tell her more of her meanings, and then if her be melancholy, her will sing her a Welch Song too, to make her merries, but _Guenith_ was very honest; her was never love but one sentleman, and he was bear her great teal of good-ills too, was marry one day _S. Davy_, her give her five pair of white gloves, if her will dance at her weddings. _Ha._ All I am worth, And all my hopes this strange voice would forsake her, For then she shud be--prethee stay a little, Hark in thine ear, dissemble not, but tell me, And save my life; I know you are _Maria_: Speak but as I doe, ten words to confirm me; You have an _English_ soul, do not disguise it From me with these strange accents--She pinch'd hard Again, and sigh'd. _La._ What ails the Wench? [_Exit._ _Nur._ Why, _Guenith_. _Ha._ She's gone too. _2._ Come leave this dream. _Ha._ A dream? I think so; But 'twas a pleasing one, now I'll obey, And forget all these wonders, lead the way. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._ _Enter_ Wildbrain _and_ Toby. _Wild._ Honest _Toby_? _To._ Sweet Mr. _Wildbrain_,--I am glad I ha met w'ye. _Wild._ Why, did my Aunt send for me? _Tob._ Your Aunt's a mortal, and thinks not on you For ought I can perceive. _Wild._ Is my cosin alive agen? _Tob._ Neither, and yet we do not hear That she's buried. _Wild._ What should make thee glad then? _Tob._ What should make me glad? have I not cause, To see your Princely body well, and walk thus, Look blithe and bonny, and your Wardrobe whole still? _Wild._ The case is clear, and I ha found a Mine, A perfect _Indie_, since my Aunt cashier'd me; What think'st of this? _Tob._ Oh delicate bells. _Wild._ Thou puttest me in mind, We are to ring anon, I mean[t] to send for thee; Meet me at the old Parish Church. _Tob._ Say no more. _Wild._ When thy Lady is a bed, we ha conspir'd A midnight peal for joy. _Tob._ If I fail, hang me i' th' bell-ropes. _Wild._ And how? and how does my Aunt? _Tob._ She's up to th' ears in Law; I do so whirl her to the Counsellors chambers, And back again, and bounce her for more money, And too again, I know not what they do with her; But she's the merriest thing among these Law-drivers; And in their studies half a day together; If they do get her with _Magna Charta_, she swears, By all the ability of her old body, She will so claw the Justice, she will sell The tiles of the house she vows, and Sack out o'th' Cellar, (That she worships to Idolatry) but she'll hang him.