Amin. I do not know myself; yet I could wish
My joy were less.

Diph. I’ll marry too, if it will make one thus.

Evad. Amintor, hark.

[Aside.

Amin. What says my love?—I must obey.

Evad. You do it scurvily, ’twill be perceived. [Apart to him.

Cleo. My lord, the king is here.

Enter KING and LYSIPPUS.

Amin. Where?

Stra. And his brother.

King. Good morrow, all!—
Amintor, joy on joy fall thick upon thee!
And, madam, you are alter’d since I saw you;
I must salute you; you are now another’s.
How liked you your night’s rest?

Evad. Ill, sir.

Amin. Ay, ’deed,
She took but little.

Lys. You’ll let her take more,
And thank her too, shortly.

King. Amintor, wert
Thou truly honest till thou wert married.

Amin. Yes, sir.

King. Tell me, then, how shows the sport unto thee?

Amin. Why, well.

King. What did you do?

Amin. No more, nor less, than other couples use;
You know what ’tis; it has but a coarse name.

King. But, pr’ythee, I should think, by her black eye,
And her red cheek, she should be quick and stirring
In this same business; ha?

Amin. I cannot tell;
I ne’er try’d other, sir; but I perceive
She is as quick as you delivered.

King. Well, you will trust me then, Amintor,
To chuse a wife for you again?

Amin. No, never, sir.

King. Why? like you this so ill?

Amin. So well I like her.
For this I bow my knee in thanks to you,
And unto heaven will pay my grateful tribute
Hourly; and do hope we shall draw out
A long contented life together here,
And die both, full of grey hairs, in one day:
For which the thanks are yours. But if the powers
That rule us please to call her first away,
Without pride spoke, this world holds not a wife
Worthy to take her room.