**Sir F**. Some music, there! None lead...

Sir F. Some music, there! None lead the bride a dance?

Sir C. Yes, would she dance The Shaking of the Sheets;

But that's the dance her husband means to lead her.

Wen. That,'s not the dance that every man must dance,

According to the ballad.

Sir F. Music, ho!

By your leave, sister, — by your husband's leave

I should have said, — the hand that but this day

Was given you in the church I'll borrow. — Sound !

This marriage music hoists me from the ground.

Frank. Ay, you may caper; you are light and free !

Marriage hath yok'd my heels; pray, then, par- don me.

Sir F. I'll have you dance too, brother !

**Sir C. ** Master Frankford,

You are a happy man, Sir, and much joy

Succeed your marriage mirth: you have a wife

So qualified, and wit such ornaments

Both of the mind and body. First, her birth

Is noble, and her education such

As might become the daughter of a prince;

Her own tongue speaks all tongues, and her own hand

Can teach all strings to speak in their best grace,

From the shrill'st treble to the hoarsest base.

To end her many praises in one word,

She's Beauty and Perfection's eldest daughter,

Only found by yours, though many a heart hath sought her.

Frank. But that I know your virtues and chaste thoughts,

I should be jealous of your praise, Sir Charles.

[For full play text, see:
A Women Killed With Kindness]