PROLOGUS. The humble Socke that true Comedians weare, If your faire fauours cause her spirite to rise, Meane while, shore up our tender pamping twig, [Exit. THE FAIR MAID OF THE EXCHANGE. ACT I., SCENE I. The Suburbs of London. Enter SCARLET and BOв BINGTON. Scar. Even now the welcome twilight doth salute Th' approaching night, clad in black sable weeds, Black as my thoughts, that harbour nought but death, Scar. Brave resolution! I am proud to see So sweet a graft upon a wormwood tree, Whose juice is gall, but yet the fruit most rare. Therefore, resolve, if we a booty get, It boots not whence, from whom, when, where, or what. |