Spindle-spouts and turtles’ eggs,

Mutton-chops and milk-stools’ legs,

Heigh ho! I love thee!

Vivien. And now thou art the fool in earnest.

Dagonet. Yea, and the better lover.

Vivien. And what after wedding, thou wise fool?

Dagonet. What saith the pot to the egg that is boiled therein,

The floor to the mop that hath scrubbed it,

The rain to the moist earth,

And the bird’s nest to the empty shell?

Learn, and thou shalt find it.

Vivien. And had’st thou never a lover’s longing, Fool?

Dagonet. Yea, but I cured me.

Vivien. Wilt thou give me that receipt, Dagonet?

[Pg 17]

[Pg 17]

Dagonet. I filled my mouth wi’ honey, and my couch wi’ prickles,

And went asleep on’t.

(Vivien laughs and retires behind the curtain.)

Dagonet. Yea woe is me, is me, poor Dagonet!

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