love the
a jolly
kind rattle
of Of an
thing orde-al by battle
That I There's an
love end of
to tittle
look tattle,
up- When your
on, enemy is dead.
So It's an
let arrant
us molly-
sing, coddle
Long Fears a
live crack upon
the his
King, noddle,
And his And he's
son only fit to
Hi- swaddle, In a
la- downy fea-
ri-on! ther bed!

(During this, Hilarion, Florian,
and Cyril are
brought out by the "Daughters of
the Plough".
They are still bound and wear
the robes.

Enter GAMA.)

Gama: Hilarion! Cyril! Florian! dressed as women!
Is this indeed Hilarion?

Hilar.: Yes, it is!

Gama: Why, you look handsome in your women's clothes!
Stick to 'em! Men's attire becomes you not!
(To CYRIL and FLORIAN) And you, young ladies, will you please to
pray
King Hildebrand to set me free again?
Hang on his neck and gaze into his eyes,
He never could resist a pretty face!

Hilar.: You dog, you'll find, though I wear woman's garb,
My sword is long and sharp!

Gama: Hush, pretty one!
Here's a virago! Here's a termagant!
If length and sharpness go for anything,
You'll want no sword while you can wag your tongue!

Cyril: What need to waste your words on such as he?