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ACT II. SCENE I.

An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter SOPHRONOS and ARETUS.

Soph. Our commonwealth is sick: 'tis more than time

That we should wake the head thereof, who sleeps In the dull lethargy of lost security.

The commons murmur, and the nobles grieve;
The court is now turn'd antick, and grows wild,
Whilst all the neighbouring nations stand at gaze,
And watch fit opportunity to wreak

Their just conceived fury on such injuries
As the late prince, our living master's father,
Committed against laws of truth or honour.
Intelligence comes flying in on all sides;
Whilst the unsteady multitude presume
How that you, Aretus, and I engross,
Out of particular ambition,

The affairs of government; which I, for my part,
Groan under, and am weary of.

Are. Sophronos,

I am as zealous too of shaking off

My gay state-fetters, that I have bethought

Of speedy remedy; and to that end,

As I have told you, have concluded with

Corax, the prince's chief physician.—

Soph. You should have done this sooner, Aretus; You were his tutor, and could best discern

His dispositions, to inform them rightly.

Are. Passions of violent nature, by degrees Are easiliest reclaim'd. There's something hid Of his distemper, which we'll now find out.

Enter CORAX, RHETIAS, PELIAS, CUCULUS, and GRILLA.

You come on just appointment. Welcome, gentlemen!

Have you won Rhetias, Corax?

Cor. Most sincerely.

Cuc. Save ye, nobilities! Do your lordships take notice of my page? 'Tis a fashion of the newest edition, spick and span-new, without example. Do your honour, housewife!

Gril. There's a curtsy for you, and a curtsy for you.

Soph. 'Tis excellent: we must all follow fashion, And entertain she-waiters.

Are. "Twill be courtly.

Cuc. I think so; I hope the chronicles will rear me one day for a headpiece

Rhe. Of woodcock, without brains in it!3 Barbers shall wear thee on their citterns, and hucksters set thee out in gingerbread.

3 Of woodcock, &c.] A cant term for a simpleton. See Jonson, vol. ii. p. 127.

4 Barbers shall wear thee on their citterns.] For an explanation of this passage, the reader may refer to Jonson, vol. iii. p. 411. where he will find all that is necessary to be said on the subject. The head of the cittern like that of the harp occasionally terminated, I suppose, in some grotesque kind of ornament.

Cuc. Devil take thee! I say nothing to thee now; canst let me be quiet?

the

Gril. You are too perstreperous, sauce-box.
Cuc. Good girl! if we begin to puff once-
Pel. Prithee, hold thy tongue; the lords are in
presence.

Rhe. Mum, butterfly!

Pel. The prince!' stand and keep silence. Cuc. O the prince! wench, thou shalt see the prince now.

[Soft Music.

Enter PALADOR, with a Book.

Soph. Are. Sir, gracious sir!

Pal. Why all this company?

Cor. A book! is this the early exercise
I did prescribe? instead of following health,
Which all men covet, you pursue disease.*
Where's your great horse, your hounds, your set
at tennis,

Your balloon ball, the practice of your dancing,
Your casting of the sledge, or learning how
To toss a pike? all chang'd into a sonnet!
Pray, sir, grant me free liberty to leave
The court; it does infect me with the sloth
Of sleep and surfeit: in the university

The Prince.] I have omitted O, which was probably adopted from the next speech.

6 You pursue disease.] The old copy reads—your disease. This word, which spoils the measure, seems to have crept in from the passage immediately following it.

D

I have employments, which to my profession
Add profit and report; here I am lost,
And, in your wilful dulness, held a man
Of neither art nor honesty.

Command my head:-pray,

better

You may

take it, do! 'twere

For me to lose it, than to lose my wits,

And live in Bedlam ; you will force me to't;
I am almost mad already.

Pal. I believe it.

Soph. Letters are come from Crete, which do require

A speedy restitution of such ships,

As by your father were long since detain'd;
If not, defiance threaten'd.

Are. These near parts

Of Syria that adjoin, muster their friends;
And by intelligence we learn for certain,
The Syrian will pretend an ancient interest
Of tribute intermitted.

Soph. Through your land

Your subjects mutter strangely, and imagine
More than they dare speak publicly.

Cor. And yet

They talk but oddly of you.

Cuc. Hang 'em, mongrels!

Pal. Of me? my subjects talk of me!

7 And live in Bedlam.] As there were mad folks in Famagosta, there were doubtless receptacles for them. Ford, however, was thinking of Moorfields.

Cor. Yes, scurvily,

And think worse, prince.

Pal. I'll borrow patience

A little time to listen to these wrongs;

And from the few of you, which are here present, Conceive the general voice.

Cor. So! now he's nettled.

[Aside.

Pal. By all your loves I charge you, without

fear

Or flattery, to let me know your thoughts,
And how I am interpreted: Speak boldly.
Soph. For my part, sir, I will be plain, and brief.
I think you are of nature mild and easy,
Not willingly provok'd, but withall headstrong
In any passion that misleads your judgment:
I think you too indulgent to such motions.
As spring out of your own affections;
Too old to be reform'd, and yet too young
To take fit counsel from yourself, of what
Is most amiss.

Pal. So!-Tutor, your conceit ?

Are. I think you doat (with pardon let me speak

it)

Too much upon your pleasures; and these pleasures
Are so wrapt up in self-love, that you covet
No other change of fortune: would be still
What your birth makes you; but are loth to toil
In such affairs of state as break your sleeps.
Cor. I think you would be by the world re-
puted

A

man,

in

every point complete; but are

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