ALPHONSO

This musick'd dull, strike higher, higher yet. Still such a sadness Ladies dwell on your brows? trust me, it misbecomes you: shall's tread a lusty measure? I'm light, and active. Thus we'll shake it off, and thus. Of what? It's worth the noting, virtue is rare in you. Faith so I shall, as often as I am disposed to laugh. I perceive thou hast one good quality, thou wilt speak truth. With what? Thy judgement against any men in Naples. What? Suppose then, any of they should be in love with me, would you? — What? I warrant you Ladies, this was because she lay alone; you should advice her better. Yes, and thou wilt get so many i'th Kingdom, fifty? what's fifty? I'll have a monopoly of they, get they all with child with males, and they shall be born with beards on. Heigh! to a Wench; to a Wench! capers! now and I were King it should be treason for any subject to marry. Or to lie with a Woman. Perhaps and I had a mind to't, Idem get all my Subject's my self, would! what sayest thou to't, Grutti? Bentivoglio! we are friends, come thou shalt along with us, to a wench, old trangdido, to a wench, and thou shalt so bumfiddle her. Art right? art right? old boy! these Physicians are notable jerkers, come, where's their rendezvous? Would? how many?—how many?—whats that there? Nay good Bentivoglio give it me, a whole one, a whole one! Would! would! he! Super naculum! my old bully lively, my authentic Done, soul of pleasure; line of life; let's too't; such a violent fit o'th sudden! a dozen Calentures are and ague to't; twenty Juleps will not cool one wish. O! ho! o! More clothes; — why hoe there, on my feet I say. The King: If you'd lend me your gown, and cap, I should do't better; then, a noise of Musicians would be excellent. So, suppose now— Yes, yes, you shall have favours, favours, Gentle men: bring me but to the sighed of a woman, I'll clap up a match with her, and to bed straight; and if I don't outdo Hercules at his thirteenth labour, cut of my dainty dowsets, and feed dogs with they. A violent fit o'th ague; o! o! o! have me to bed gently, gently, or I shall scatter all my limbs; O! o! o! for half a dozen of night caps. Some fire, some fire; —cold, cold, cold, cold. O! o! Would 'thad been poison. Die? and let her, what should we do with her here and she be mad? I hope Ladies you have more wit than to die o'th sullens. Pish, let the dead care for themselves: Did you but see how ugly sorrow looks.— Fun, thy judgement Fun, what thinkest thou of these Ladies? A fools head, will it not? I say you shall bring her. Nay but Fun. —Pox on him, he'll discover me. Old? would! would! he! Grutti, Grutti, dost hear him? would! would! he! prithee how old? how old dost think? have I not a warm moist palm? do's not my pulse Beatrice strong, and healthy? Belleeve it, I'm a wanton. As how? Bring her to my chamber. And of complexion sanguine, I know it by my dreams. Hymen is now predominant; the Stars Will have it so; I must and will be married.