Twangle

Cal. Be not affeard, the Iſle is full of noyſes, Sounds, and ſweet aires, that giue delight and hurt not : Sometimes a thouſand twangling Inſtruments Will hum about mine eares ; and ſometime voices, That if I then had wak'd after long ſleepe, Will make me ſleepe againe, and then in dreaming, The clouds methought would open, and ſhew riches Ready to drop vpon me, that when I wak'd I cri'de to dreame againe.

While the twangling violin / Struck up with Soldier-laddie.