Enter SOPHRONOS and ARETUS.

Soph. We find him timely now; let's learn the

cause.

Are. 'Tis fit we should.-Sir, we approve you learn'd,

And, since your skill can best discern the hun.ours
That are predominant in bodies subject
To alteration, tell us, pray, what devil
This Melancholy is, which can transform
Men into monsters?

Cor. You are yourself a scholar,

And quick of apprehension: Melancholy
Is not, as you conceive, indisposition

Of body, but the mind's disease. So Ecstasy,
Fantastic Dotage, Madness, Phrensy, Rupture
Of mere imagination, differ partly

From Melancholy; which is briefly this,
A mere commotion of the mind, o'ercharged
With fear and sorrow; first begot i' th' brain,
The seat of reason, and from thence deriv'd
As suddenly into the heart, the seat

Of our affection.

Are. There are sundry kinds

Of this disturbance?

Cor. Infinite: it were

More easy to conjecture every hour

We have to live, than reckon up the kinds
Or causes of this anguish of the mind.

Soph. Thus you conclude, that as the cause is doubtful,

The cure must be impossible; and then

1 "Vide," Ford says, "Democritus Junior." He alludes to the Anatomy of Melancholy, by Robert Burton; from which not only what is here said, but the descriptions and personifications of the various affections of the mind in the interlude (scene iii.) are imitated, or rather copied; for the poet has added little or nothing of his own to what he found in that popular volume. To say the truth, the stupendous and undistinguishing diligence of our "Democritus the Younger" almost precluded the possibility of adding to any topic which he had previously made the object of his researches.-GIFFORD.

Our prince, poor gentleman, is lost for ever,
As well unto himself as to his subjects.

Cor. My lord, you are too quick; thus much I
dare

Promise and do; ere many minutes pass,
I will discover whence his sadness is,
Or undergo the censure of my ignorance.
Are. You are a noble scholar.

Soph. For reward

You shall make your own demand.
Cor. May I be sure?

Are. We both will pledge our truth.
Cor. 'Tis soon perform'd.

That I may be discharged from my attendance
At court, and never more be sent for after:
Or-if I be, may rats gnaw all my books,
If I get home once, and come here again!
Though my neck stretch a halter for 't, I care not.
Soph. Come, come, you shall not fear it.

Cor. I'll acquaint you

With what is to be done; and you shall fashion it.

SCENE II.

A Room in THAMASTA'S House.

Enter KALA and PARTHENOPHILL.

[Exeunt.

Kala. My lady does expect you, thinks all time Too slow till you come to her: wherefore, young

man,

If you intend to love me, and me only,
Before we part, without more circumstance,
Let us betroth ourselves.

Par. I dare not wrong you ;

You are too violent.

Kala. Wrong me no more

Than I wrong you; be mine, and I am yours;
I cannot stand on points.

Par. Then, to resolve

All further hopes, you never can be mine,

Must not, and, pardon though I say, you shall not.

Kala. Shall not!

Well,

You were best to prate unto my lady now,

What proffer I have made.

Par. Never, I vow.

Kala. Do, do! 't is but a kind heart of my own, And ill luck can undo me.-Be refused!

O scurvy!-Pray walk on, I'll overtake you.
Meantime I'll mar1 her market.

[Exit PAR.

Enter MENAPHON.

Men. Parthenophill passed this way; prithee,

Kala,

Direct me to him.

Kala. Yes, I can direct you;

But you, sir, must forbear.

Men. Forbear?

Kala. I said so.

Your bounty has engaged my truth, receive
A secret, that will, as you are a man,

Startle your reason; 't is but mere respect
Of what I owe to thankfulness.

Dear sir,

The stranger, whom your courtesy received
For friend, is made your rival.

Men. Rival, Kala?

Take heed; thou art too credulous.

Kala. My lady

Dotes on him: I will place you in a room,

Where, though you cannot hear, yet you shall see Such passages as will confirm the truth

Of my intelligence.

Men. "T will make me mad.

Kala. Yes, yes.

It makes me mad too, that a gentleman

1 I'll mar her market.] Her mistress's; whom she accordingly betrays to Menaphon.-GIFFORD.

So excellently sweet, so liberal,

So kind, so proper, should be so betrayed

By a young smooth-chinn'd straggler; but, for love's sake,

Bear all with manly courage.-Not a word;

I am undone then.

Men. That were too much pity:

Honest, most honest Kala! 't is thy care,
Thy serviceable care.

Kala. You have ev'n spoken

All can be said or thought.

Men. I will reward thee:

But as for him, ungentle boy, I'll whip
His falsehood with a vengeance.

Kala. O speak little.

Walk up these stairs; and take this key, it opens A chamber door, where, at that window yonder, You may see all their courtship.

Men. I am silent.

Kala. As little noise as may be, I beseech you; There is a back-stair to convey you forth

Unseen or unsuspected.

[Exit MENAPHON.

He that cheats

A waiting-woman of a free good turn

She longs for, must expect a shrewd revenge. Sheep-spirited boy! altho' he had not married me, He might have proffered kindness at the least: But they are come:

On goes my set of faces most demurely.

Enter THAMASTA and PARTHENOPHILL.

Tha. Forbear the room.

Kala. Yes, madam.

Tha. Whosoever

Requires access to me, deny him entrance

Till I call thee; and wait without.

Tha. I expose

[Exit KALA.

The honour of my birth, my fame, my youth,
To hazard of much hard construction,

VOL. I.-8

In seeking an adventure of a parley

So private with a stranger: if your thoughts
Censure me not with mercy, you may soon
Conceive, I have laid by that modesty,

Which should preserve a virtuous name unstain'd.
Par. Lady-to shorten long excuses-time
And safe experience have so thoroughly arm'd
My apprehension, with a real taste

Of your most noble nature, that to question
The least part of your bounties, or that freedom,
Which Heaven hath with a plenty made you rich in,
Would argue me uncivil; which is more,

Base-bred; and, which is most of all, unthankful. Tha. The constant loadstone and the steel are found

In several mines; yet is there such a league
Between these minerals, as if one vein

Of earth had nourish'd both. The gentle myrtle
Is not ingraft upon an olive's stock;

Yet nature hath between them lock'd a secret
Of sympathy, that, being planted near,

They will, both in their branches and their roots,
Embrace each other: twines of ivy round

The well-grown oak; the vine doth court the elm;
Yet these are different plants. Parthenophill,
Consider this aright; then these slight creatures
Will fortify the reasons I should frame

For that unguarded (as thou think'st) affection,
Which is submitted to a stranger's pity.

True love may blush, when shame repents too

late;

But in all actions, nature yields to fate.

Par. Great lady, 't were a dulness must exceed The grossest and most sottish kind of ignorance, Not to be sensible of your intents;

I clearly understand them. Yet so much

1 Would argue me uncivil,] i. e. unacquainted with the language and manners of good society.-GIFFORD.