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Scena III.
Enter to them Hilario.Hil.
What here ye whirlygigs, while
Queen Fancie calls you? Where's Concupiscence,
where's Concupiscence? After all
your Starching, Quilling, Turning, Seeking,
Pinning; after your Jury of Pedlars, Tirewomen,
Lacemakers and Semsters, still
where's Concupiscence? Your Lady Fancie
findes many greivous defects; there wants
a Pin or two at least. One of her ribband
Fancies are loose; a long haire hath unweav'd
it selfe out of its curl'd Spheare,
and passionatly broke forth out of Order.
Fly, fly, ye Baggases.
(Ex. Conc.
Fug.
Baggases?
Hil.
As for my Sister, shee's one I'm
sure: She colours for it; her willow
gowne with nay me forsaken wretch is a
Challeng, a meer Challeng to all pittiful-minded
Amoroses: She's true touch,
all the world can tell. Wu'd you were
so too Lady for Sr. Tim's sake. Stay Fuga,
you must stay one minute; for I must shew
on you how Sr. Tim. must wooe.
Fug.
I see every one's ready to be a Dunces Teacher.
Hil.
Thus Sr. Tim. This is
Loves Trenchmore.
Singing and Dancing he drives her to the brink of the Stage; She returns to escape. So twice or thrice.
Fug.
Fie on you all.
Hil.
A prity Wench. Sr. Tim, but that
shew's sawc'd
Malevolo's Daughter. But what of that?
Every coy lasse is of Cockeril condition,
And must be woo'd as Cockerils fight, chase and retreate;
And then sheel love you like your shadow;
Fly thou, sheel follow; follow thou, sheel fly,
For I say no, and for her no say I.
Thus when a long time ye have turn'd backs one to another,
Ye may at length turn faces.
Tim.
Sr. I shall sometimes
Repaire to your wit for my direction.
Hil.
You may—and I shall readily afford it to your folly
(Ex. Tim.
For mine own merriment.
Enter Hilario's Boy.
Boy.
The Queen's at hand.
Hil.
And they not ready yet with their tedious Phantastticalia!
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