Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up; For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. Exit.

Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men:

“When griping grief the heart doth wound,

And doleful dumps the mind oppress,

Then music with her silver sound”⁠—

“When griping grief the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound”⁠—

why “silver sound”? why “music with her silver sound”? What say you, Simon Catling?