_Evad_. Ladies good night, I'le do the rest my self.

_Dul_. Nay, let your Lord do some.

_Asp_. Lay a Garland on my Hearse of the dismal Yew.

_Evad_. That's one of your sad songs Madam.

_Asp_. Believe me, 'tis a very pretty one.

_Evad_. How is it Madam?

SONG.

Asp_. Lay a Garland on my Hearse of the dismal yew;
Maidens, Willow branches bear; say I died true:
My Love was false, but I was firm from my hour of birth;
Upon my buried body lay lightly gentle earth_.

_Evad_. Fie on't Madam, the words are so strange, they
are able to make one Dream of Hobgoblins; _I could never
have the power_, Sing that _Dula_.

Dula_. I could never have the power
To love one above an hour,
But my heart would prompt mine eye
On some other man to flie;_
Venus, _fix mine eyes fast,
Or if not, give me all that I shall see at last_.