till?

_Flor._ What, is the Woman mad, or would be thought so?
What makes you stand and stare thus?

_Nurse._ Did you see no Body?

_Cael._ Who should we see but an Old doting fool,
That turn'd a Child again, would Act like one,
And can't find a proper time for't neither.

_Flor._ What make you up so late, Nurse?

_Nurse._ What's that to you? It may be I sat up
To make my Lady merry with this Jest,
But now, forsooth, I'm grown too Old to please her.
You are her favourite--what, come again?
O, do not stare so at me!
[Shreeks.]
[Exit.

_Cael._ There's something more in this then barely play!
How the Old Woman star'd? sure she's run mad!
For shame, or sorrow _Jasper_ goes away.
Prethee follow her.

_Flor._ Since you will have me, Madam, I will do't,
Though I dare scarcely venture.
[Exit.

_Cael._ The greatest Object pity hath, is Age,
When it returns to Childishness again,
As this Old Woman doth; and though we say,
That Age is Honourable, we only mean,
When Gravity and Wisdom are its marks,
And not gray hairs, and froward peevishness,
As ten for one, are known by to be Old,
And though we see this true, yet we would all
Prolong our time to that decrepid state,
When nothing but contempt can wait upon us;
How strangely sin dastards our very Reason,
Making that guide us to desire known ills
Rather then Joys, that promis'd we deserve not;
For the best Men through sense of guilt do fear
To change for unseen Joys their troubles here.
[Exit.

_Enter Nurse._

_Nurse._ If this Ghost follow still, 'twill make me mad;
For sure it is a Ghost it looks so pale;
Ay, and _Eugenia's_ Ghost, I'm sure it is;
But who should kill her? May be _Don Francisco_!
Oh, there it is again--It's not my fault--
Oh, do not follow me then: What shall I do?
See there again, she points unto her Breasts--
It's gone again, I fear 'twill make me mad--
I'le go to Prayers: But I forget my bus'ness,
My Lord will come, and I must let him in,
And shew him what I promis'd, or he'l kill me.

_Enter _Flora_._

What, come again! Oh, Heav'ns! I'le stop my Eyes,

_Flor._ Nurse, are you mad?

_Nurse._ No, you would make me so! But I defie thee--
Be gone, thou Spirit, i'th' name of Heav'n, be gone.

_Flor._ Who should be gone?

_Nurse._ Thou! for thou'rt the Devil. Come not near me.

_Flor._ My Lady sent me to you--

_Nurse._ No, no, she did not, for she lov'd me always,
And would not send the Devil thus to fright m