Here are the Beetle-browes shall blush for me

Ben. Come knocke and enter, and no sooner in,
But euery man betake him to his legs

Rom. A Torch for me, let wantons light of heart
Tickle the sencelesse rushes with their heeles:
For I am prouerb'd with a Grandsier Phrase,
Ile be a Candle-holder and looke on,
The game was nere so faire, and I am done

Mer. Tut, duns the Mouse, the Constables owne word,
If thou art dun, weele draw thee from the mire.
Or saue your reuerence loue, wherein thou stickest
Vp to the eares, come we burne day-light ho

Rom. Nay that's not so

Mer. I meane sir I delay,
We wast our lights in vaine, lights, lights, by day;
Take our good meaning, for our Iudgement sits
Fiue times in that, ere once in our fiue wits

Rom. And we meane well in going to this Maske,
But 'tis no wit to go

Mer. Why may one aske?
Rom. I dreampt a dreame to night

Mer. And so did I