Foolish wench, I could have loved her twenty years to come, And still have kept my liking.

But since 'tis so, Why, fare thee well, old playfellow! I'll try To squeeze a tear for old acquaintance' sake.
I shall not grudge so much---- _To him enters_ LOVEL.
_Lovel_.

Bless us, Woodvil! what is the matter?
I protest, man, I thought you had been weeping.
_Wood_.

Nothing is the matter; only the wench has forced some water into my eyes, which will quickly disband.
_Lovel_.

I cannot conceive you.
_Wood_.