_2._ And little _Luce_, with the white legs, and bouncing _Barbary_. _1._ And freckled _Nel_; that never fail'd her Master. _Sch._ Where be your Ribands maids? swym with your Bodies And carry it sweetly, and deliverly And now and then a favor, and a friske. _Nel._ Let us alone Sir. _Sch._ Where's the rest o'th' Musick. _3._ Dispers'd as you commanded. _Sch._ Couple then And see what's wanting; where's the _Bavian_? My friend, carry your tail without offence Or scandall to the Ladies; and be sure You tumble with audacity, and manhood, And when you bark doe it with judgement. _Bau._ Yes Sir. _Sch. Quo usque tandem?_ Here is a woman wanting. _4._ We may goe whistle: all the fat's i'th' fire. _Sch._ We have, As learned Authors utter, wash'd a Tile, We have been _fatuus_, and labour'd vainly. _2._ This is that scornfull peece, that scurvy hilding That gave her promise faithfully, she would be here, _Cicely_ the Sempsters daughter: The next gloves that I give her shall be dogs-skin; Nay and she fail me once, you can tell _Arcas_, She swore by wine, and bread, she would not break. _Sch._ An E[e]l and woman, A learned Poet sayes: unles by'th' tail And with thy teeth thou hold, will either fail, In manners this was false position. _1._ A fire ill take her; do's she flinch now? _3._ What Shall we determine Sir? _Sch._ Nothing, Our business is become a nullity Yea, and a woefull, and a pittious nullity. _4._ Now when the credit of our Town lay on it, Now to be frampall, now to piss o'th' nettle, Goe thy ways, I'll remember thee, I'll fit thee. _Enter Jaylor's daughter._ Daughter, _The George alow, came from the South, from_ _The coast of Barbary a._ _And there he met with brave gallants of war_ _By one, by two, by three, a._ _Well hail'd, well hail'd, you jolly gallants,_ [Chair and stools out. _And whither now are you bound a?_ _O let me have your company till come to the sound a._ _There was three fools, fell out about an howlet:_ _The one sed it was an owl_ _The other he sed nay,_ _The third he sed it was a hawk, and her bels were cut away._ _3._ There's a dainty mad woman Mr. comes i'th' Nick, as mad as a march Hare; If we can get her dance, we are made again: I warrant her, she'll do the rarest gambols. _1._ A mad woman? we are made Boys. _Sch._ And are you mad good woman? _Daugh._ I would be sorry else, Give me your hand. _Sch._ Why?