Ye work and work like blind moles, in the paths
That are bored thro' the crannies of the earth,
To charge your hungry souls with such full sur-
feits,

As, being gorg'd once, make you lean with plenty; And when you have skimm'd the vomit of your riots,

You are fat in no felicity but folly :

Then your last sleeps seize on you; then the troops Of worms crawl round, and feast, good cheer, rich fare,

Dainty, delicious!-Here's Cleophila ;

All the poor stock of my remaining thrift:
You, you, the prince's cousin, how d'ye like her?
Amethus, how d'ye like her?

Amet. My intents

Are just and honourable.

Men. Sir, believe him.

Mel. Take her!-We two must part; go to him, do.

Par. This sight is full of horror.

Rhe. There is sense yet,

In this distraction.

Mel. In this jewel I have given away

All what I can call mine. When I am dead,
Save charge; let me be buried in a nook:
No guns, no pompous whining; these are fooleries.
If, whilst we live, we stalk about the streets
Jostled by carmen, foot-posts, and fine apes
In silken coats, unminded and scarce thought on;

It is not comely to be haled' to the earth,
Like high-fed jades upon a tilting-day,
In antick trappings. Scorn to useless tears!
Eroclea was not coffin'd so; she perish'd,

And no eye dropp'd save mine--and I am childish;
I talk like one that doats; laugh at me, Rhetias,
Or rail at me. They will not give me meat,
They have starv'd me; but I'll henceforth be mine
own cook.

Good morrow! 'tis too early for my cares
To revel; I will break my heart a little,
And tell ye more hereafter. Pray be merry. [Exit.

Rhe. I'll follow him. My lord Amethus, use your time respectively; few words to purpose soonest prevail: study no long orations; be plain and short. I'll follow him. [Exit. Amet. Cleophila, although these blacker clouds Of sadness, thicken and make dark the sky Of thy fair eyes, yet give me leave to follow The stream of my affections; they are pure, Without all mixture of unnoble thoughts: Can you be ever mine?

Cleo. I am so low

In mine own fortunes, and my father's woes,
That I want words to tell

A worthier choice.

you, you deserve

Amet. But give me leave to hope.

Men. My friend is serious.

8 Haled to the earth.] i. e. drawn to the grave. The allusion is to the pomp and parade of a funeral procession, and to the rich heraldic trophies with which the hearse was covered.

Cleo. Sir, this for answer. If I ever thrive
In any earthly happiness, the next
To my good father's wish'd recovery,

Must be my thankfulness to your great merit,
Which I dare promise:-for the present time,
You cannot urge more from me.

Mel. (within) Ho, Cleophila !
Cleo. This gentleman is mov'd.
Amet. Your eyes, Parthenophill,
Are guilty of some passion.

Men. Friend, what ails thee?

Par. All is not well within me, sir.

Mel. (within) Cleophila !

Amet. Sweet maid, forget me not; we now

Enter CUCULUS and GRILLA, the former in a black Velvet Cap, and a white Feather, with a Paper in his hand.

Cuc. Do not I look freshly, and like a youth of the trim?

Gril. As rare an old youth as ever walked cross-gartered.

Cuc. Here are my mistresses, mustered in white and black. [Reads.] "Kala, the waiting-woman. I will first begin at the foot: stand thou for Kala.

Gril. I stand for Kala; do your best and your

worst.

Cuc. I must look big, and care little or nothing for her, because she is a creature that stands at livery. Thus I talk wisely, and to no purpose. "Wench, as it is not fit that thou should'st be either fair or honest, so, considering thy service, thou art as thou art, and so are thy betters, let them be what they can be. Thus, in despite and defiance of all thy good parts, if I cannot endure thy baseness, 'tis more out of thy courtesy than my deserving; and so I expect thy answer.'

Gril. I must confess

Cuc. Well said.

Gril. You are

Cuc. That's true too.

Gril. To speak you right, a very scurvy fellow. Cuc. Away, away!-dost think so?

Gril. A very foul-mouth'd and misshapen coxcomb.

Cuc. I'll never believe it, by this hand. Gril. A maggot, most unworthy to creep in To the least wrinkle of a gentlewoman's (What d'ye call) good conceit, or so, or what You will else were you not refin'd by courtship,

And education, which, in my blear eyes,

Makes you appear as sweet as any nosegay,
Or savoury cod of musk, new fall'n from the cat.
Cuc. This shall serve well enough for the wait-
ing-woman. My next mistress is Cleophila, the

old madman's daughter. I must come to her in whining tune; sigh, wipe mine eyes, fold my arms, and blubber out my speech as thus: "Even as a kennel of hounds, sweet lady, cannot catch a hare, when they are full paunched on the carrion of a dead horse; so, even so the gorge of my affections, being full crammed with the garboils of your condolements, doth tickle me with the prick (as it were) about me, and fellow-feeling of howling outright."

Gril. This will do't, if we will hear.'

Cuc. Thou seest I am crying ripe, I am such another tender-hearted fool.

Gril. 66 Even as the snuff of a candle that is burnt in the socket goes out, and leaves a strong perfume behind it; or as a piece of toasted cheese next the heart in a morning, is a restorative for a sweet breath: so, even so the odoriferous savour of your love doth perfume my heart (heigh ho!) with the pure scent of an intolerable content, and, not to be endured."

Cuc. By this hand 'tis excellent! Have at thee, last of all, for the Princess Thamasta, she that is my mistress indeed. She is abominably proud, a lady of a damnable high, turbulent, and generous spirit; but I have a loud-mouth'd cannon of mine own to batter her, and a penned speech of purpose observe it.

If we will hear.] Probably a misprint for she. If Grilla answered in the name of Cleophila, we had already heard.