_Ale._ J cannot helpe these things, the Fates will have it, Tis not my land does this. _Lit._ But thou hast a plough That brings it in. _Are._ Now he lookes brave and lovely. _Fre._ Welcome my gallant Macedonian. _Al._ Madam, you gave your Nephew for my pupill, I rea'd but in a taverne, if you'le honour us, The Beare at the bridge foote shall entertaine you, A drawer is my Ganimed, he shall skinke Briske _Nectar_ to us, we will onely have A dozen Partridge in a dish, as many Phesants, Quailes, Cockes and Godwits, shall come marching up Like the train'd band, a sort of Sturgeon Shall give most bold defiance to an army, And triumph ore the table. _Are._ Sir, it will But dull the appetite to heare more, and mine Must be excusd, another time I may Be your guest. _Ale._ Tis growne in fashion now with Ladies, When you please ile attend you; _Littleworth_. Come _Fredericke_. _Fre._ Weele have musicke, I love noise, We will out roare the Thames and shake the bridge boy. _Ex._ _Lit._ Madam I kisse your hand, wod you wod thinke Of your poore servant, flesh and bloud is fraile, And troublesome to carry without helpe. _Are._ A coach will easily convey it, or You may take water at strand bridge. _Lit._ But I Have taken fire. _Are._ The Thames will coole. _Lit._ But never quench my heart, your charitie Can onely doe that! _Are._ I will keepe it cold Of purpose, _Lit._ Now you blesse me, and I dare Be drunke in expectation. _Are._ I am confident He knowes me not, and I were worse than mad To be my owne betrayer, here's my husband. _Enter Born._