I'le do't my self, and justly wish to want her.-- [_Exeunt._




_ACTUS TERTIUS. SCENA PRIMA._


_Enter three or four_ Boors.

_1 B._ Come, _English_ beer Hostess, _English_ beer by th' belly.

_2 B._ Stark beer boy, stout and strong beer: so, sit down Lads,
And drink me upsey-Dutch:
Frolick, and fear not.

_Enter_ Higgen _like a Sow-gelder, singing._

Hig. _Have ye any work for the Sow-gelder, hoa,
My horn goes too high too low, too high too low.
Have ye any Piggs, Calves, or Colts,
Have ye any Lambs in your holts
To cut for the Stone,
Here comes a cunning one.
Have ye any braches to spade,
Or e're a fair maid
That would be a Nun,
Come kiss me, 'tis done.
Hark how my merry horn doth blow,
Too high too low, too high too low._