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] Ors. Nay, ladies, you shall find me

As free as the musicians of the woods

Themselves: what I have, you shall not need to call for;

Nor shall it cost you anything.

Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?

Why so dull and mute, young sinner? Prithee, why so mute? Will, when speaking well can't win her, Saying nothing do't? Prithee, why so mute?

Quit, quit, for shame, this will not move: This cannot take her. If of herself she will not love, Nothing can make her: The devil take her!

Ori. I should have guess'd, it had been the issue of

Your brain, if I had not been told so.

Ors. A little foolish counsel, madam, I gave

A friend of mine four or five years ago,

When he was falling into a consumption.

Orb. Which of all you have seen the fair prisoner,

Since she was confin'd?

Sem. I have, madam.

Orb. And how behaves she now herself?

Sem. As one that had intrench'd so deep in innocence,

She fear'd no enemies, bears all quietly,

And smiles at Fortune whilst she frowns on her.

Orb. So gallant?

I wonder where the beauty lies, that thus

Inflames the royal blood.

Ori. Faces, madam, are

Like books; those that do study them know best;

And, to say truth, 'tis still much as it pleases

The Courteous Reader.