WOOER

Alas Sir, where's your Daughter? Oh Sir when did you see her? Was she well? was she in health? Sir, when did she sleep? Nothing but my pity; but you must know it, and as good by me As by and other that less loves her: 'Tis too true, she is mad. Believe you'll find it so. 'Tis likely. I'll tell you quickly. As I late was angling In the great Lake that lies behind the Palace, From the far shore, thick set with redes, and Sedges, As patiently I was attending sport, I herd a voice, a shrill one, and attentive I gave my ear, when I might well perceive Was one that sung, and by the smallness of it A boy or woman. I then left my angle To his own skill, came near, but yet perceived not Who made the found; the rushes, and the Reeds Had so encompassed it: I laid me down And listened to the words she song, for then Through a small glade cut by the Fi her men, I saw it was your Daughter. She sung much, but no sense; on lie I herd her Repeat this often. Palamon is gone, Is gone to'th wood to gather Mulberries, I'll find him out to morrow. His shackles will betray him, he'll be taken, And what shall I do then? I'll bring a eavy, A hundred black eyed Maids, that love as I do With Chaplets on their heads of Daffodils, With cherry-lips, and cheeks of Damask Rofes, And all we'll dance and Antique before the Duke, And beg his pardon; Then she talked of you Sir; That you must lose your head to morrow morning, And she must gather flowers to bury you, And see the house made handsome, then she sung Nothing but Willow, willow, willow, and between Ever was, Palamon, fair Palamon, And Palamon, was a tall young man. The Was knee deep where she sat; her careless Tresses, A wreak of bulrush rounded; about her stuck Thousand fresh water flowers of several cullors. That me thought she appeared Like the fair Nymph That feeds the lake with waters, or as Iris Newly dropped down from heaven; Rings she made Of rushes that grew by, and to they spoke The prettiest posies: Thus our truelove's tide, This you may lose, not me, and many a one: And then she wept, and S ng again, and sighed, And with the same breath smiled, and ki her hand. I did think so too, and would account I had a great Pen-worth on't, to give half my slate, that both She and I at this present stood unfeignedly on the Same terms. Sir I demand no more then your own offer, And I will estate your Daughter in what I Have promised, I have Sir; here she comes. I never saw'em. I made in to her. She saw me, and S raight sought the stood, I saved her, And set her safe to land: when presently She slipped away, and to the Gi ty made, With such a ry, and , that me She left me far behind her; , , I saw from far off cross her I knew to be your brother, where stayed, And fell, scarce to be God away: I left them with her. Enter Brother, Daughter, and others. And hither came to tell you: Here they are. Oh very much; The maids that heaped her company Have half persuaded her that I am Palamon; within this Half hour she came smiling to me, and asked me what I Would cate, and when I would kiss her: I told her Presently, and kissed her twice. Then she told me She would watch with me to night, for well she knew What hour my fit would take me. She would have me sing. No. Alas I have no voice Sir, to confirm her that way. She's eighteen. Yet very well Sir. I am of your mind Doctor. Pretty soul How do you? that's a fine maid, ther's a curtsy. What shall we do there wench? I am content If we shall keep our wedding there. Do not you know me? That's all one, I will have you. Yes by this fair hand will I. Even when you will. Why do you rub my kiss off? I will, Come sweet we'll go to dinner And then weel play at Cards. A hundréd times I and twenty. Yes marry will we. I will not sweet.