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As modest and as hopeless, as the trust
I did repose in him could wish, or merit.

Amet. I will esteem him dearly.
Men. Sir, your sister.
Tha. Servant, I have employment for you.

Amet. Harkye!
The mask of your ambition is fallen off;
Your pride hath stoop'd to such an abject lowness,
That you have now discover'd to report
Your nakedness in virtue, honours, shame,

Tha. You are turn'd satire.

Amet. All the flatteries
Of greatness have expos'd you to contempt.

Tha. This is mere railing.

Amet. You have sold your birth For lust.

Tha. Lust!

Amet. Yes; and, at a dear expense, Purchased the only glories of a wanton.

Tha. A wanton!

Amet. Let repentance stop your mouth: Learn to redeem your fault.

Kala. I hope your tongue Has not betray'd my honesty. [.Aside to Men.

Men. Fear nothing.

Tha. If, Menaphon, I hitherto have strove
To keep a wary guard about my fame;
If I have us'd a woman's skill to sift
The constancy of your protested love;
You cannot, in the justice of your judgment,
Impute that to a coyness or neglect,
Which my discretion and your service aim'd
For noble purposes.

1 It is evident, from what follows, in a subsequent scene, that this warmth of language is merely affected by Amethus, for the purpose of intimidating his sister, and by dint of overpowering her supposed coquetry, surprising her into an avowal of her attachment to his friend.--GIFFORD.

Vol. I.-9

Men. Great mistress, no: I rather quarrel with mine own ambition, That durst to soar so high, as to feed hope Of any least desert, that might entitle My duty to a pension from your favours. Amet. And therefore, lady (pray observe him

well), He henceforth covets plain equality; Endeavouring to rank his fortunes low, With some fit partner, whom, without presumption, Without offence or danger, he may cherish, Yes, and command too, as a wife; a wife; A wife, my most great lady! Kala. All will out.

[Aside. Tha. Now I perceive the league of amity, Which you have long between you vow'd and kept, Is sacred and inviolable; secrets Of every nature are in common to you. I have trespassed, and I have been faulty ; Let not too rude a censure doom me guilty, Or judge my error wilful without pardon.

Men. Gracious and virtuous mistress!

Amet. 'Tis a trick;
There is no trust in female cunning, friend.
Let her first purge her follies past, and clear
The wrong done to her honour, by some sure
Apparent testimony of her constancy;
Or we will not believe these childish plots:
As you respect my friendship, lend no ear
To a reply.—Think on't!
Men. Pray, love your fame.

[Exeunt Men. and AMET.
Tha. Gone! I am sure awak'd. Kala, I find
You have not been so trusty as the duty
You owed required.

Kala. Not Ī? I do protest
I have been, madam.

Tha. Be-no matter what!
I am paid in mine own coin; something I must,

And speedily:-So!-seek out Cuculus,
Bid him attend me instantly.

Kala. That antic!
The trim old youth shall wait you.
Tha. Wounds may be mortal, which are wounds

indeed; But no wound's deadly, till our honours bleed.



A Room in the Castle.

Enter RHETIAS and CORAX. Rhe. Thou art an excellent fellow. Diabolo! O these empirics, that will undertake all cures, yet know not the causes of any disease! Dog-leeches! By the four elements I honour thee; could find in my heart to turn knave, and be thy flatterer.

Cor. Sirrah, 't is pity thou 'dst not been a scholar; Thou’rt honest, blunt, and rude enough, o' con

science! But for thy lord now,-I have put him to't.

Rhe. He ehafes hugely, fumes like a stew-pot; is he not monstrously overgone in phrensy?

Cor. Rhetias, 't is not a madness, but his sorrows
(Close griping grief, and anguish of the soul)
That torture him; he carries hell on earth
Within his bosom: ’t was a prince's tyranny
Caus'd his distraction; and a prince's sweetness
Must qualify that tempest of his mind.'

Rhe. Corax, to praise thy art, were to assure
The misbelieving world, that the sun shines,
When 't is i' th' full meridian of his beauty :
No cloud of black detraction can eclipse

't was a prince's tyranny Caused his distraction, &c.] Here again poor Corax has just stum bled on what the prince had discovered long before: never, surely, was reputation so cheaply obtained as by this componnd of fool and physi. ciali.-GUTORD.

The light of thy rare knowledge. Henceforth casting
All poor disguises off, that play in rudeness,
Call me your servant; only, for the present,
I wish a happy blessing to your labours.—
Heaven crown your undertakings! and, believe me,
Ere many hours can pass, at our next meeting,
The bonds my duty owes shall be full cancell'd.

E.cit. Cor. Farewell!-A shrewd-brain'd fellow; there

is pith In his untoward plainness.—Now, the news?

Enter Trollio, with a morion' on. Trol. Worshipful master doctor, I have a great deal of I cannot tell what, to say to you. My lord thunders, every word that comes out of his mouth roars like a cannon; the house shook once ;-my young lady dares not be seen.

Cor. We will roar with him, Trollio, if he roar.

Trol. He has got a great pole-axe in his hand, and fences it up and down the house, as if he were to make room for the pageants. I have provided me a morion for fear of a clap on the coxcomb.

Mel. [within.) So ho, so ho!

Trol. There, there, there! look to your right worshipful, look to yourself.

Enter MelEANDER with a pole-axe.
Mel. Show me the dog, whose triple-throated noise
Hath rous'd a lion from his uncouth den,
To tear the cur in pieces.
Cor. (Putting on a frightful mask, and turning to

MEL.] Stay thy paws,
Courageous beast; else, lo! the Gorgon's scull,

1 Morion.] A headpiece, a helmet.—GIFFORD. 2 To make room for the pageants.) An allusion to the city-officers, who headed the shows on the Lord Mayor's day, and opened the passage for the maskers. They must have found occasion for all their fencing, if the fierce curiosity of the citizens be considered, and the state of the public streets.--GIFFORD.

That shall transform thee to that restless stone,
Which Sisyphus rolls up against the hill ;
Whence, tumbling down again, it, with its weight,
Shall crush thy bones, and puff thee into air.

Mel. Nay, if the fates
Have spun my thread, and my spent clew of life
Be not untwisted, let us part like friends:
Lay up my weapon, Trollio, and be gone.
Trol. Yes, sir, with all my heart.

[Exit, with the pole-axe. Mel. This friend and I will walk, and gabble

wisely. Cor. I allow the motion; on! [Takes off his mask.

Mel. So politicians thrive,
That with their crabbed faces, and sly tricks,
Legerdemain, ducks, cringes, formal beards,
Crisp'd hairs, and punctual cheats, do wriggle in
Their heads first, like a fox, to rooms of state;
Then the whole body follows.

Cor. Then they fill
Lordships; steal women's hearts; with them and

theirs The world runs round; yet these are square men

still. Mel. There are none poor, but such as engross

offices. Cor. None wise, but unthrifts, bankrupts, beggars,

rascals. Mel. The hangman is a rare physician. Cor. That's not so good ;-[Aside.}-it shall be

Mel. All
The buzz of drugs, and minerals, and simples,
Blood-lettings, vomits, purges, or what else
Is conjur'd up by men of art, to gull

1 The world turns round; yet these are square men still.] The play of words between round and square is not of a very exquisite kind, but it does well enough for Corax. By square he means just, unimpeachable.-GIFFORD.

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