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Mart. Come, come, to the point.

Lev. All the curses
Due to a ravisher of sober truth,
Dam up their graceless mouths!

Mart. Now you turn rampant,
Just in the wenches' trim and garb: these prayers
Speak your devotions purely.
Lev. Sir, alas !

What would you have me do? I have no orators,
More than my tears, to plead my innocence,
Since you forsake me, and are pleas'd to lend
An open ear against my honest fame.
Would all their spite could harryl my contents
Unto a desperate ruin ! Oh, dear goodness!
There is a right for wrongs.

Mart. There is; but first
Sit in commission on your own defects,
Accuse yourself; be your own jury, judge,
And executioner; I make no sport
Of my vexation.

Lev. All the short remains
Of undesired life shall only speak
The extremity of penance; your opinion
Enjoins it too.

Mart. Enough; thy tears prevail
Against credulity.

Lev. My miseries,
As in a glass, present me the rent face
of an unguided youth.
Mart. No more.-
Enter TRELCATIO with an open letter.

Some business speeds you hither.

Trel. Happy news-
Signor Martino, pray your ear; my nephew,
Auria, hath done brave service: and I hear-

1 Could harry my contents,] i. e. worry, torment, drive by violence, &c.--GIFFORD.

But wherefore, sister, keeps your silence distance ?
Am I not welcome to you?

Spin. Lives Auria safe?
Oh, prithee do not hear me call him husband,
Before thou canst resolve what kind of wife
His fury terms the runaway; speak quickly,
Yet do not-stay, Castanna,-I am lost!
His friend hath set before him a bad woman,
And he, good man, believes it.

Cost. Now in truth-
Spin. Hold! my heart trembles—I perceive thy

Is great with ills, and hastes to be deliver'd;
I should not use Castanna so.

First tell me,
Shortly and truly tell me, how he does.

Cast. In perfect health.
Spin. For that, my thanks to Heaven.
Mal. The world hath not another wife like

Cousin, you will not hear your sister speak,
So much your passion rules.

Spin. Even what she pleases:
Go on, Castanna.

Cast. Your most noble husband
Is deaf to all reports, and only grieves
At his soul's love, Spinella's, causeless absence.

Mal. Why look ye, cousin, now!
Spin. Indeed!

Cast. Will value
No counsel, takes no pleasure in his greatness,
Neither admits of likelihood at all
That you are living: if you were, he's certain
It were impossible you could conceal
Your welcomes to him, being all one with him;
But as for jealousy of your dishonour,
He both laughs at and scorns it.

Spin. Does he !

Mal. Therein
He shows himself desertful of his happiness.

Amor. How many horthes, pray, Are ith their chariots ?

Piero. Sixteen, some twenty.

Cast. My sister! wherefore left we her alone ?
Where stays she, gentlemen ?

Fut. Viewing the rooms;
'Tis like you 'll meet her in the gallery:
This house is full of curiosities,
Most fit for ladies' sights.

Amor. Yeth, yeth, the thight
Of printhethes ith a fine thight.

Cast. Good, let us find her.
Piero. Sweet ladies, this way; see the doors sure.

(Aside to Fut. Fut. Doubt not.



Another Room in the same.- A Banquet set out.
Enter ADURNI and SPINELLA.- A Song within.

Pleasures, beauty, youth attend ye,

While the spring of nature lasteth;
Love and melting thoughts [befriends ye,
Use the time, ere winter hasteth.

Active blood, and free delight,

Place and privacy invite.
Do, do! be kind as fair.

Lose not opportunity for air.
Adur. Plead not, fair creature, without sense of

So incompassionately 'gainst a service,
In nothing faulty more than pure obedience:
My honours and my fortunes are led captives
In triumph, by your all-commanding beauty;
And if you ever felt the power of love,
The rigour of an uncontrolled passion,

The tyranny of thoughts, consider mine,
In some proportion, by the strength of yours;
Thus may you yield and conquer.

Spin. Do not study,
My lord, to apparel folly in the weed
Of costly colours; henceforth cast off far,
Far from your noblest nature, the contempt
Of goodness, and be gentler to your fame,
By purchase of a life to grace your story.

Adur. Dear, how sweetly
Reproof drops from that balmy spring your breath!
Now could I read a lecture of my griefs,
Unearth a mine of jewels at your foot,
Command a golden shower to reign down,
Impoverish every kingdom of the East,
Which traffics richest clothes and silks, would

Vouchsafe one unspleen'd chiding to my riot :
Else such a sacrifice can but beget
Suspicion of returns to my devotion,
In mercenary blessings; for that saint
To whom I vow myself, must never want
Fit offerings to her altar.

Spin. Auria, Auria,
Fight not for name abroad; but come, my hus-

band, Fight for thy wife at home!

Adur. Oh, never rank, Dear cruelty, one that is sworn your creature, Among your country's enemies; I use No force, but humble words, deliver'd from A tongue that's secretary to my heart. Spin. How poorly some, tame to their wild de

Fawn on abuse of virtue! pray, my lord,
Make not your house my prison.

Adur. Grant a freedom
To him who is the bondman to your beauty.

(A noise within, and the door is forced.

Piero. Lady, you 'll perceive it.

Ful. She seems in my first entrance to admire me: Protest she eyes me round; Fulg. she's thine own!

[Aside. Piero. Noble Fulgoso.

Ful. Did you hear the music? ’T was I that brought it; was 't not tickling ? ah, ha !

Amor. Pray, what pinth thent it?

Ful. Prince! no prince, but we;
We set the ditty, and composed the song ;
There's not a note or foot in 't but our own,
And the pure trodden mortar of this brain :
We can do things and things.

Amor. Dood! thing't youathelf then.

Ful. Nay, nay, I could never sing More than a gib-cat, or a very howlet ; But you shall hear me whistle it.

[Whistles. Enter GUZMAN. Amor. Bleth uth, whoth thith ? Fut. Oh, 't is the man of might.

Guz. May my address to beauty lay no scandal Upon my martial honour, since even Mars, Whom, as in war, in love I imitate, Could not resist the shafts of Cupid ; therefore, As, with the god of war, I deign to stoop, Lady, vouchsafe, Love's goddess-like, to yield Your fairer hand unto these lips, the portals Of valiant breath that hath o'erturn’d an army. Amor. Faya weather keep me! what a thorme

ith thith?
Fut. Oh, don, keep off at farther distance; yet
A little farther; do you not observe
How your strong breath hath terrified the lady?
Guz. I'll stop the breath of war, and breathe as

As a perfumed pair of sucking bellows
In some sweet lady's chamber; for I can
Speak lion-like, or sheep-like, when I please.

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