Chloe. What! shall they? and such a one as these?

Cris. Ay, and a better than these: I would be sorry else.

Chloe. And shall your looks change, and your hair change, and all,
like these?

Cris. Why, a man may be a poet, and yet not change his hair, lady.

Chloe. Well, we shall see your cunning: yet, if you can change your
hair, I pray do.
[Re-enter Albius.
Alb. Ladies, and lordlings, there's a slight banquet stays within
for you; please you draw near, and accost it.

Jul. We thank you, good Albius: but when shall we see those
excellent jewels you are commended to have?

Alb. At your ladyship's service.--I got that speech by seeing a
play last day, and it did me some grace now: I see, 'tis good to
collect sometimes; I'll frequent these plays more than I have done,
now I come to be familiar with courtiers. [Aside.

Gal. Why, how now, Hermogenes? what ailest thou, trow?

Her, A little melancholy; let me alone, prithee.

Gal. Melancholy I how so?