Witch. Not one of them:  I know them very well.

Jasp. Farewell, Dear Aunt, but don’t you seem to know me.

Witch. Out you great Fool!  What become my Instructer?  Be careful of your self, and fear not me.  Farewel, boy.

    [Exeunt.

Enter Antonio_, Gerardo, Caelia, Eugenia, as to a Masque, and take their seats._

Ger. Have you heard, Madam, what they represent?

Caelia My Lord, I’m told they mean to play the Gipsies, And tell our fortunes to us.

Anto. I would they could.

Eugen. If all Man’s life determin’d is before,
I would not know my Destiny me-thinks,
For good is best, when least it is Expected;
And bad fore-seen is doubl’d by our fear
Things certain no fore-knowledge can prevent
Such knowledge only can bring discontent.

Ger. In this with you I perfectly agree.

Anto. Yet for all that I wish I could foresee.

Caelia. My Lord, what profit by it wou’d you gain?

Anto. ’Twould cure doubt to me the deadliest pain.

Ger. Doubt is th’effect of fear or Jealousie,
Two Passions which to Reason give the Lye
For fear torments, but never does assist,
And Jealousie is love lost in a Mist. 
Both Hood-wink truth, then go to blind-mans buff,
Cry here, then there, seem to direct enough: 
But all the while shift place making the mind
As it goes out of breath despair to find. 
And if at last something it stumbles on,
Perhaps it calls it false and then ’tis gone. 
If true, what’s gain’d only just time to see
A breachless Play a Game at Liberty;
That has no other end then this, that men
Run to be tyr’d just to set down agen.

Anto. This is a truth, and so for ought I know,
To the same purpose tends all things we do: 
Life’s a Disease, and yet we seldom say,
That Man is sick whom we see laugh and play;
And ’tis as well to bid the Bed-rid ride,
As to bid Men in doubt be satisfy’d: 
For ’tis the mind’s Disease, and Physick should
Be proper to’t, or else the Patient’s fool’d. 
And there’s no Drug in Nature doubt to Cure
But only one, and that is to be sure.

Cael. Yes, Circumstance, my Lord, if well apply’d.

Anto. I’ve known that often fail, when it was try’d But they come—­

    [Flourish.

  Enter first Gipsie, and sings.

1.  Gipsie. Come, come, away; follow, follow your Prince,
I am King of the swarthy Complexions;
Follow me that can lead you through Chimneys and Chinks
To steal Bacon and Pease;
Nay, sometimes with ease
To a Feast of the choycest Confections. 
Come, follow me then, come away, come away.

  Enter second Gipsie, and sings.

2.  Gip. We know no Rebellion, but obey, but obey,
To our King we are just,
And true to our trust,
Leaving discord to those, that their Princes oppose,
When by the Spirit of Treason in Non-sence they pray.