Berg. Oh, the wench!-Uds sa'me, uncle, I tickled her with a rare speech, that I made her almost burst her belly with laughing.

· Don. Nay, I think so; and what speech was't? Berg. What did I say, Poggio?

Pog. Forsooth, my master said, that he loved her almost as well as he loved parmasent; and swore (I'll be sworn for him) that she wanted but such a nose as his was, to be as pretty a young woman as any was in Parma.

Don. Oh gross!

Berg. Nay, uncle;-then she ask'd me, whether my father had more children than myself? and I said no; 'twere better he should have had his brains knock'd out first.

Don. This is intolerable.

Berg. Then said she, will Signior Donado, your uncle, leave you all his wealth?

Don. Ha! that was good; did she harp upon that string?

Berg. Did she harp upon that string! ay, that she did. I answer'd, "Leave me all his wealth? why, woman, he hath no other wit; if he had, he should hear on't to his everlasting glory and confusion: I know, quoth I, I am his white boy,

7 Parmasent.] i. e. Parmasan; the cheese of Parma, where the scene is laid.-Reed suggests that this word may mean a trick in drinking so called; but poor Bergetto had no tricks of any kind: the allusion is evidently to the cheese, which is sufficiently strong to affect the breath, and therefore ridiculously put in competition with the lady.

8

White-boy.] A childish term of endearment. Warton says that Dr. Busby used to call his favourite scholars his white-boys. The word occurs in Massinger, and most of our old poets.

and will not be gull'd;" and with that she fell into a great smile, and went away. Nay, I did fit her.

Don. Ah, sirrah, then I see there's no changing of nature. Well, Bergetto, I fear thou wilt be a very ass still.

Berg. I should be sorry for that, uncle.

Don. Come, come you home with me: since you are no better a speaker, I'll have you write to her after some courtly manner, and enclose some rich jewel in the letter.

Berg. Ay marry, that will be excellent.

Don. Peace, innocent!

Once in my time I'll set my wits to school,
If all fail, 'tis but the fortune of a fool,

Berg. Poggio, 'twill do, Poggio!

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

An Apartment in FLORIO's House.

Enter GIOVANNI and ANNABELLA.

Giov. Come, Annabella, no more Sister now, But Love, a name more gracious; do not blush, Beauty's sweet wonder, but be proud to know That yielding thou hast conquer'd, and inflamed A heart, whose tribute is thy brother's life.

Ann. And mine is his. Oh, how these stolen contents

Would print a modest crimson on my cheeks,
Had any but my heart's delight prevail'd!

Giov. I marvel why the chaster of your sex Should think this pretty toy call'd maidenhead, So strange a loss; when, being lost, 'tis nothing, And you are still the same.

Ann. 'Tis well for you; Now you can talk.

Giov. Music as well consists In th' ear, as in the playing. Ann. Oh, you are wanton!Tell on't, you were best; do.

Giov. Thou wilt chide me then.

Kiss me-so! thus hung Jove on Leda's neck,
And suck'd divine ambrosia from her lips.
I envy not the mightiest man alive;
But hold myself, in being king of thee,

More great than were I king of all the world:

But I shall lose

you, sweetheart.

Ann. But you shall not.

Giov. You must be married, mistress.

Ann. Yes! to whom?

Giov. Some one must have

Ann. You must.

Giov. Nay, some other.

you.

Ann. Now prithee do not speak so; without

jesting

You'll make me weep in earnest.

Giov. What, you will not!

But tell me, sweet, canst thou be dared to swear

That thou wilt live to me, and to no other?

Ann. By both our loves I dare; for didst thou

know,

My Giovanni, how all suitors seem

To my eyes hateful, thou would'st trust me then. Giov. Enough, I take thy word: sweet, we must part;

Remember what thou vow'st; keep well my heart.

Ann. Will you be gone?

Giov. I must.

Ann. When to return?

Giov. Soon.

Ann. Look you do.

Giov. Farewell.

[Exit.

Ann. Go where thou wilt, in mind I'll keep thee

here,

And where thou art, I know I shall be there.
Guardian!

Enter PUTANA.

Put. Child, how is't, child? well, thank heav'n, ha?

Ann. O guardian, what a paradise of joy Have I past over!

Put. Nay, what a paradise of joy have you past under! why, now I commend thee, charge. Fear nothing, sweet-heart; what though he be your brother? your brother's a man, I hope; and I say still, if a young wench feel the fit upon her, let her take any body, father or brother, all is one.

Ann. I would not have it known for all the

world.

Put. Nor I indeed; for the speech of the people; else 'twere nothing.

Flo. (within) Daughter Annabella!

Ann. O me! my father,――Here, sir:-reach my work.

Flo. (within) What are you doing?

Ann. So; let him come now.

Enter FLORIO, followed by RICHARDETTO as a Doctor of Physic, and PHILOTIS, with a Lute.

Flo. So hard at work! that's well; you lose no time.

Look, I have brought you company; here's one,
A learned doctor, lately come from Padua,
Much skill'd in physic; and, for that I see
You have of late been sickly, I entreated
This reverend man to visit you some time.
Ann. You are very welcome, sir.
Rich. I thank you, mistress:

Loud fame in large report hath spoke your praise,
As well for virtue as perfection;9

For which I have been bold to bring with me
A kinswoman of mine, a maid, for song

And music, one perhaps will give content;
Please you to know her.

Ann. They are parts I love,

And she for them most welcome.

Phi. Thank you, lady.

As well for virtue as perfection.] For perfect beauty, or fullness of accomplishments.