d gentleman. Hee's here and there and
everywhere. How will his tongue run when his Coggs are oild; theile
drench him! [_Exit_.

_Fra_. Although I mist a happines, I applaud
Your nimble wit that securd both our honours.
You have an excellent Instrument too o' your gentlewoman.

_La_. Oh she deliver'd to the life how you
Were troubled with the Stone. At first I did
Beleev't my selfe, and thinke of the sad consequence.
But tyme is pretious now: although our Starres
Have not been yet propitious to our meeting
Ile try my art to night to make 'em shine.
With happie influence on our Loves.

_Fra_. Most excellent Madam, how?

_La_. Ile not engage
Your visit to my chamber, since the first
Prov'd so unfortunate, but come to youres.

_Fra_. This night? wonot your husband be at home.

_La_. Yes.

_Fra_. You enjoy but one bed.

_La_. Without witchcraft, sir,
I have a stratageme to delude my husband
And all his jealous waking eyes, a plott
That cannot faile if you dare but expect me.

_Fra_. I grow immortall with my hopes and fancie
More than the worlds most pretious Empire in
Our first embrace. I should runne back into
An Infant once agen, and by degrees
And tyme grow up to meet so vast a happines.
Ages in expectation spent were poore
And easy sufferings weigh'd against this triumph!
Methinkes I am not man but something of
A more exalted essence: humane nature
Hath not capacity to understand
And owne theis spatious blessings.

_La_. No more rapture;
But with the confidence of a lover spread
Your equall thoughts, and in your heart and armes
Prepare an entertainement for that guest
That hath no life or name but what you give.
A kisse! and leave our soules to thinke upon
The joyes this night attend us.

_Fra_. Sullen day,
Do not tire now; tis downehill all the way.

[_Exeunt severally_.

_Act the Fourth_.

[SCENE 1.[260]]

[_Captain,[261] Underwit, Courtwell and Musicians,
discovered in the Tavern_.]

_Capt_. Come, my _Apollos_, my _Orpheuses_ or my _Bacchus_ his
Minst[rels], which, to leave poeticall expressions, in broader phrase
is Taverne fidlers, some of your new tunes, my Masters; doe you heare?

1. Do you meane Mr. _Adson_'s[262] new ayres, Sir?

_Cap_. I, Sir; but they are such phantasticall ayres as it putts a Poet
out of his witts to rhime to them; but let mee heare.

1 _Play_.

_Capt_. No, I doe not li