2. Pitty? come foole, fling them about lustily; flowers neuer |90| dye a sweeter death, than when they are smoother’d to death in a Louers bosome, or else paue the high wayes, ouer which these pretty, simpring, setting things, call’d brides, must trippe. 1. I pray thee tell mee, why doe they vse at weddings to furnish all places thus, with sweet hearbes and flowers? |95| 2. One reason is, because tis----ô a most sweet thing to lye with a man. 1. I thinke tis a O more more more more sweet to lye with a woman. 2. I warrant all men are of thy minde: another reason is, because |100| they sticke like the scutchions of madame chastity, on the sable ground, weeping in their stalkes, and wincking with theyr yellow-sunke eyes, as loath to beholde the lamentable fall of a Maydenhead: what senceles thing in all the house, that is not nowe as melancholy, as a new set-vp Schoolemaster? |105| 1. Troth I am. 2. Troth I thinke thou mournst, because th’ast mist thy turne, I doe by the quiuer of _Cupid_: you see the torches melt themselues away in teares: the instruments weare theyr heart stringes out for sorrow: and the Siluer Ewers weepe most pittifull Rosewater: |110| fiue or sixe payre of the white innocent wedding gloues, did in my sight choose rather to be torne in peeces than to be drawne on; and looke this Rosemary, (a fatall hearbe) this dead-mans nose-gay, has crept in amongst these flowers to decke th’ inuisible coarse of the Brides Maydenhead, when (oh how |115| much do we poore wenches suffer) about eleuen or twelue, or one a clock at midnight at furthest, it descends to purgatory, to giue notice that _Cælestine_ (hey ho) will neuer come to lead Apes in hell. 1. I see by thy sighing thou wilt not. |120| 2. If I had as many Mayden-heads, as I have hayres on my head, Ide venture them all rather then to come into so hot a place; prethy strew thou, for my little armes are weary. 1. I am sure thy little tongue is not. 2. No faith that’s like a woman bitten [tw] fleas, it neuer lyes |125| stil: fye vpont, what a miserable thing tis to be a noble Bride, there’s such delayes in rising, in fitting gownes, in tyring, in pinning Rebatoes, in poaking, in dinner, in supper, in Reuels, & last of all in cursing the poore nodding fidlers, for keeping Mistris Bride so long vp from sweeter Reuels; that, oh I could |130| neuer endure to put it vp without much bickering. 1. Come th’art an odde wench, hark, harke, musicke? nay then the Bride’s vp. 2. Is she vp? nay then I see she has been downe: Lord ha mercy on vs, we women fall and fall still, and when we haue |135| husbands we play upon them like Virginall Jackes, they must ryse and fall to our humours, or else they’l neuer get any good straines of musicke out of vs; but come now, haue at it for a mayden-head. _strew._ _As they strew, enter Sir_ Quintilian Shorthose _with_ Peeter Flash |140| _and two or three seruingmen, with lights._