1 CHILD. Stop his mouth. 3 CHILD. And then there's a retired scholar there, you would not wish a thing to be better contemn'd of a society of gallants, than it is; and he applies his service, good gentleman, to the Lady Arete, or Virtue, a poor nymph of Cynthia's train, that's scarce able to buy herself a gown; you shall see her play in a black robe anon: a creature, that, I assure you, is no less scorn'd than himself. Where am I now? at a stand! 2 CHILD. Come, leave at last, yet. 3 CHILD. O, the night is come ('twas somewhat dark, methought), and Cynthia intends to come forth; that helps it a little yet. All the courtiers must provide for revels; they conclude upon a masque, the device of which is--What, will you ravish me?--that each of these Vices, being to appear before Cynthia, would seem other than indeed they are; and therefore assume the most neighbouring Virtues as their masking habit--I'd cry a rape, but that you are children. 2 CHILD. Come, we'll have no more of this anticipation; to give them the inventory of their cates aforehand, were the discipline of a tavern, and not fitting this presence. 1 CHILD. Tut, this was but to shew us the happiness of his memory. I thought at first he would have plaid the ignorant critic with everything along as he had gone; I expected some such device. 3 CHILD. O, you shall see me do that rarely; lend me thy cloak. 1 CHILD. Soft sir, you'll speak my prologue in it. 3 CHILD. No, would I might never stir then. 2 CHILD. Lend it him, lend it him: 1 CHILD. Well, you have sworn. [GIVES HIM THE CLOAK.] 3 CHILD. I have. Now, sir; suppose I am one of your genteel auditors, that am come in, having paid my money at the door, with much ado, and here I take my place and sit down: I have my three sorts of tobacco in my pocket, my light by me, and thus I begin. [AT THE BREAKS HE TAKES HIS TOBACCO.] By this light, I wonder that any man is so mad, to come to see these rascally tits play here-- They do act like so many wrens or pismires--not the fifth part of a good face amongst them all.--And then their music is abominable --able to stretch a man's ears worse then ten--pillories and their ditties--most lamentable things, like the pitiful fellows that make them--poets. By this vapour, an 'twere not for tobacco-- I think--the very stench of 'em would poison me, I should not dare to come in at their gates--A man were better visit fifteen jails--or a dozen or two of hospitals--than once adventure to come near them. How is't? well? 1 CHILD. Excellent; give me my cloak. 3 CHILD. Stay; you shall see me do another now: but a more sober, or better-gather'd gallant; that is, as it may be thought, some friend, or well-wisher to the house: and here I enter. 1 CHILD. What? upon the stage too?