2 Ser. Hark the Musick.

Enter Zabulon, and Arnoldo.

It will appear now certain, here it comes. 
Now to our places.

Arn. Whither will he lead me? 
What invitation’s this? to what new end
Are these fair preparations? a rich Banquet,
Musick, and every place stuck with adornment,
Fit for a Princes welcome; what new game
Has Fortune now prepar’d to shew me happy? 
And then again to sink me? ’tis no illusion,
Mine eyes are not deceiv’d, all these are reall;
What wealth and state!

Zab. Will you sit down and eat Sir?  These carry little wonder, they are usual; But you shall see, if you be wise to observe it, That that will strike dead, strike with amazement, Then if you be a man:  this fair health to you.

Ar. What shall I see?  I pledge ye Sir, I was never So buried in amazement—­

Zab. You are so still:  Drink freely.

Ar. The very wines are admirable:  Good Sir, give me leave to ask this question, For what great worthy man are these prepar’d?  And why do you bring me hither?

Zab. They are for you, Sir; And under-value not the worth you carry, You are that worthy man:  think well of these, They shall be more, and greater.

Ar. Well, blind fortune Thou hast the prettiest changes when thou art pleas’d, To play thy game out wantonly—­

Zab. Come be lusty, And awake your Spirits. [Cease Musick.

Ar. Good Sir, do not wake me.  For willingly I would dye in this dream, pray whose Servants Are all these that attend here?

Zab. They are yours; They wait on you.

Ar. I never yet remember I kept such faces, nor that I was ever able To maintain so many.

Zab. Now you are, and shall be.

Ar. You’l say this house is mine too?

Zab. Say it? swear it.

Ar. And all this wealth?

Zab. This is the least you see Sir.

Ar. Why, where has this been hid these thirtie years?  For certainly I never found I was wealthie Till this hour, never dream’d of house, and Servants.  I had thought I had been a younger Brother, a poor Gent.  I may eat boldly then.

Zab. ’Tis prepar’d for ye.

Ar. The taste is perfect, and most delicate: 
But why for me? give me some wine, I do drink;
I feel it sensibly, and I am here,
Here in this glorious place:  I am bravely us’d too,
Good Gentle Sir, give me leave to think a little,
For either I am much abus’d—­

Zab. Strike Musick And sing that lusty Song. [Musick.  Song.

Ar. Bewitching harmony!  Sure I am turn’d into another Creature.

Enter Hippolyta.

Happy and blest, Arnoldo was unfortunate;
Ha! bless mine eyes; what pretious piece of nature
To pose the world?