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Tha. For your reward, Henceforth I 'll call you servant.

Amet. Excellent sister!

Men. 'T is my first step to honour. May I fall Lower than shame, when I neglect all service That may confirm this favour!

Tha. Are you well, sir?

Par. Great princess, I am well. To see a league Between an humble love, such as my friend's is, And a commanding virtue, such as yours is, Are sure restoratives.

Tha. You speak ingeniously. Brother, be pleas'd to show the gallery To this young stranger. Use the time a while, And we will all together to the court: I will present you, sir, unto the prince. . Par. You are all composed of fairness and true

bounty. Amet. Come, come: we'll wait you, sister. This

beginning Doth relish happy process. Men. You have bless'd me.

[Exeunt Men. AMET. and Par. Tha. Kala! 0, Kala! Kala. Lady.

Tha. We are private; Thou art my closet.

Kala. Lock your secrets close then;
I am not to be forced.

Tha. Never till now
Could I be sensible of being a traitor
To honour and to shame.

.

Kala. You are in love.
Tha. I am grown base-Parthenophill

Kala. He's handsome,
Richly endow'd; he hath a lovely face,
A winning tongue.

1 Henceforth I'll call you servant,] i. e. acknowledge you as a lover,

Tha. If ever I must fall,
In him my greatness sinks: Love is a tyrant,
Resisted. Whisper in his ear how gladly
I would steal time to talk with him one hour;
But do it honourably. Prithee, Kala,
Do not betray me.

Kala. Madam, I will make it
Mine own case; he shall think I am in love with him.

Tha. I hope thou art not, Kala.

Kala. ”T is for your sake:
I'll tell him so; but, 'faith, I am not, lady.

Tha. Pray, use me kindly ; let me not too soon
Be lost in my new follies. "T is a fate
That overrules our wisdoms; while we strive
To live most free, we're caught in our own toils.
Diamonds cut diamonds; they who will prove
To thrive in cunning, must cure love with love.

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE 1.

An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter SOPHRONOS and ARETUS.
Soph. Our commonwealth is sick: 't is 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 antic, and grows wild,
While 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 :
While 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 off.

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, gen

tlemen! 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 courtesy for you, and a courtesy

Soph. "T is excellent: we must all follow fashion, And entertain she-waiters.

Are. ’T will 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!! Barbers shall wear thee on their citterns, and hucksters set thee out in gingerbread.

? Of woodcock, &c.] A cant term for a simpleton.—GIFFORD.

2 Barbers shall wear thee on their citterns.] It appears from innumerable passages in our old writers, that barbers' shops were furnished with some musical instruments (commonly a cittern* or guitar) for the

* The cittern of Johnson's days differed little from the guitar, as to form. It was strung with wire instead of catgut, like the guitar, and seems to have been in great vogues

for you.

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

Gril. You are too perstreperous, saucebox.
Cuc. Good girl! if we begin to puff once-

Pel. Prithee, hold thy tongue; the lords are in the presence.

Rhe. Mum, butterfly!
Pel. The prince! stand and keep silence.

Cuc. O the prince! wench thou shalt see the prince now.

[Seft music. Enter PALADOR, with a book. Soph. Are. Sir, gracious sir ! Pál. 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 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. You may Command my head :-pray, take it, do! 't were

better

amusement of such customers as chose to strum upon it while waiting for their turn to be shaved. It should be recollected that the patie of the customers, if the shop was at all popular, must, in those tedious days of love-locks, and beards of the most fantastic cuts, have been frequently put to very severe trials. Some kind of amusement, therefore, was necessary to beguile the time, and as newspapers had not then descended to the lower classes, a more innocent or effectual one than an instrument n pretty general use could not readily be found. The head of the cittern, like that of the harp, occasionally terminated, suppose, in some grotesque kind of ornament.-GIFFORD.

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 re-

quire
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!

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 withal headstrong In any passion that misleads your judgment: I think you too indulgent to such motions

1 And live in Bedlam.) As there were mad folks in Famagosta, there were doubtless receptacles for them. Ford, however, was thinking of Moorfields.-GIFFORD.

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