Debt. By no means; you shall have it, or I vow-
Cred. Well, sir, as you please.

Debt. I vow I would ne'er have borrowed of you again, as long as you lived-but proceed

Cred. Another time one hundred

Debt. O, that was to send into France to my wife to bring her over, but the queen would not part with her [then; and since, she is fallen sick.

Cred. Alas!
Debt. But pretty well recovered-

Cred. These four sums make up four hundred guineas.
Debt. Just as can be; a very good account. Put down two
hundred more, which I will borrow of you now; and

then it will be just six hundred; that is, if it will be no inconvenience to you.

Cred. Euh, not in the least.

Debt. It is to make up a sum of two thousand pounds, which I am about to lay up in houses I have bought; but if it incommode you, I can have it elsewhere.

Cred. O, by no means.

Debt. You need but tell me, if it will be any trouble.
Cred. Lord, sir, that you will think so!

Debt. I know some will be glad of the occasion to serve me; but these are favours only to be asked of special friends. I thought you, being my most esteemed friend, would take it ill, if you should come to hear of it, that I did not ask you first.

Cred. It is a great honour.

LOVE'S METAMORPHOSIS: A COMEDY,
BY JOHN LILY, M.A., 1601.

Love half-denied is love half-confessed.

NISA. NIOBE, her maid.

Nisa. I fear Niobe is in love.

Niobe. Not I, madam; yet must I confess, that oftentimes I have had sweet thoughts, sometimes hard conceits; betwixt both, a kind of yielding; I know not what; but certainly I think it is not love: sigh I can, and find ease in melancholy; smile I do, and take pleasure in imagination: I feel in myself a pleasing pain, a chill heat, a delicate bitterness; how to term it I know not; without doubt it may be Love; sure I am it is not Hate.

SAPHO AND PHAO: A COMEDY,

BY THE SAME AUTHOR, 1601.

PHAO, a poor ferryman, praises his condition; he ferries over VENUS, who inflames SAPHO and him with a mutual passion. Phao. Thou art a ferryman, Phao, yet a freeman; possessing for riches content, and for honours quiet. Thy thoughts are no higher than thy fortunes, nor thy desires greater than thy calling. Who climbeth, standeth on glass, and falleth on thorn. Thy heart's thirst is satisfied with thy hand's thrift, and thy gentle labours in the day turn to sweet slumbers in the night. As much doth it delight thee to rule thy oar in a calm stream, as it doth Sapho to sway the sceptre in her brave court. Envy never casteth her eye low, ambition pointeth always upward, and revenge barketh only at stars. Thou farest delicately, if thou have a fare to buy any thing. Thine angle is ready, when thy oar is idle; and as sweet is the fish which thou gettest in the river, as the fowl which others buy in the market. Thou needest not fear poison in thy glass, nor treason in thy guard. The wind is thy greatest enemy, whose might is withstood by policy. O sweet life! seldom found under a golden covert, often under a thatched cottage. But here cometh one; I will withdraw myself aside; it may be a passenger.

VENUS, PHAO; she as a mortal.

Ven. Pretty youth, do you keep the ferry, that conducteth to Syracusa ?

Phao. The ferry, fair lady, that conducteth to Syracusa. Ven. I fear, if the water should begin to swell, thou wilt want cunning to guide.

Phao. These waters are commonly as the passengers are; and
therefore, carrying one so fair in show, there is no
cause to fear a rough sea.
[pastime?
Ven. To pass the time in thy boat, canst thou devise any
Phao. If the wind be with me, I can angle, or tell tales; if
against me, it will be pleasure for you to see me
take pains.

Ven. I like not fishing; yet was I born of the sea. [the sea.
Phao. But he may bless fishing, that caught such an one in
Ven. It was not with an angle, my boy, but with a net.
Phao. So, was it said, that Vulcan caught Mars with Venus.
Ven. Didst thou hear so? it was some tale.
[my tale.
Phao. Yea, madam; and that in the boat did I mean to make

Ven. It is not for a ferryman to talk of the gods' loves; but to tell how thy father could dig, and thy mother spin. But come, let us away.

Phao. I am ready to wait.

SAPHO, sleepless for love of PHAO, who loves her as much, consults with him about some medicinal herb; she, a great Lady; he, the poor Ferryman, but now promoted to be her Gardener. Sapho. What herbs have you brought, Phao? Phao. Such as will make you sleep, madam; though they cannot make me slumber.

[But

[one.

[yourself? Sapho. Why, how can you cure me, when you cannot remedy Phao. Yes, madam; the causes are contrary: for it is only a dryness in your brains, that keepeth you from rest. Sapho. But what? Phao. Nothing: but mine is not so. Sapho. Nay then, I despair of help, if our disease be not all Phao. I would our diseases were all one! [desperate. Sapho. It goes hard with the patient, when the physician is Phao. Yet Medea made the ever-waking dragon to snort, when she (poor soul) could not wink. [but Jason. Sapho. Medea was in love, and nothing could cause her rest Phao. Indeed I know no herb to make lovers sleep but heart's ease; which, because it groweth so high, I cannot [reach, for

Sapho. For whom?

Phao. For such as love

Sapho. It stoopeth very low, and I can never stoop to it, thatPhao. That what?

Sapho. That I may gather it. But why do you sigh so, Phao? Phao. It is mine use, madam. [sigh, but I must sigh also. Sapho. It will do you harm, and me too; for I never hear one Phao. It were best then that your ladyship give me leave to be gone; for I can but sigh.

Sapho. Nay, stay; for now I begin to sigh, I shall not leave, though you be gone. But what do you think best Phao. Yew, madam. [for your sighing, to take it away? Sapho. Me!

Phao. No, madam; yew of the tree.

Sapho. Then will I love yew the better. And indeed I think it would make me sleep too; therefore, all other simples set aside, I will simply use only yew. Phao. Do, madam; for I think nothing in the world so good Sapho. Farewell, for this time.

SAPHO questions her low-placed affection.

[as yew.

Sapho. Into the nest of an Alcyon no bird can enter but the Alcyon and into the heart of so great a lady can any creep but a great lord?

CUPID. SAPHо cured of her love by the pity of VENUS. Cupid. But what will you do for Phao?

Sapho. I will wish him fortunate. This will I do for Phao, because I once loved Phao: for never shall it be

said, that Sapho loved to hate; or that out of love she could not be as courteous, as she was in love passionate.

PHAO's final resolution.

Phao. O Sapho, thou hast Cupid in thy arms, I in my heart; thou kissest him for sport, 1 must curse him for spite; yet will I not curse him, Sapho, whom thou kissest. This shall be my resolution, wherever I wander, to be as I were ever kneeling before Sapho ; my loyalty unspotted, though unrewarded. With as little malice will I go to my grave, as I did lie withal in my cradle. My life shall be spent in sighing and wishing; the one for my bad fortune, the other for Sapho's good.

THE TRUE TROJANS, OR FUIMUS TROES: AN HISTORICAL PLAY. AUTHOR UNKNOWN, 1633.

Invocation of the Druids to the gods of Britain, on the invasion of Cæsar.

Draw near, ye heavenly Powers,
Who dwell in starry bowers;
And ye, who in the deep
On mossy pillows sleep;
And ye who keep the centre,
Where light did never enter;
And ye whose habitations
Are still among the nations,
To see and hear our doings,

Our births, our wars, our wooings;
Behold our present grief.

Belief doth beg relief.

By the vervain and lunary,

By fern seed planetary,

By the dreadful misletoe

Which doth on holy oak grow,

Draw near, draw near, draw near.

Help us beset with danger,
And turn away your anger;
Help us begirt with trouble,
And now your mercv double;

Help us oppress'd with sorrow
And fight for us to-morrow.
Let fire consume the foeman,
Let air infest the Roman,
Let seas entomb their fury,
Let gaping earth them bury,
Let fire, and air, and water,
And earth conspire their slaughter.
By the vervain, &c.

We'll praise then your great power
Each month, each day, each hour,
And blaze in lasting story
Your honour and your glory.
High altars lost in vapour,
Young heifers free from labour,
White lambs for suck still crying,
Shall make your music dying,
The boys and girls around,
With honeysuckles crown'd;
The bards with harp and rhyming,
Green bays their brows entwining,
Sweet tune and sweeter ditty,
Shall chant your gracious pity.

By the vervain, &c.

Another, to the moon.

Thou queen of heaven, commandress of the deep,
Lady of lakes, regent of woods and deer;
A lamp, dispelling irksome night; the source
Of generable moisture; at whose feet
Wait twenty thousand Naides!-thy crescent
Brute elephants adore, and man doth feel
Thy force run through the zodiac of his limbs.
O thou first guide of Brutus to this isle,
Drive back these proud usurpers from this isle.
Whether the name of Cynthia's silver globe,
Or chaste Diana with a gilded quiver,
Or dread Proserpina, stern Dis's spouse,
Or soft Lucina, call'd in child-bed throes,
Doth thee delight; rise with a glorious face,
en drops of Nereus trickling down thy cheeks,
with bright horns united in full orb

h the seas, with billows beat the banks,
up Neptune, and the Æolian slaves,
both night and winter in a storm,
ans lose their way, and sooner land