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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

tongue
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

this.-
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.

Cast. Methinks the news should cause some mo

tion, sisterYou are not well.

Mal. Not well!
Spin. I am unworthy-
Mal. Of whom? what? why?
Spin. Go, cousin ;-come, Castanna. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

An Apartment in the House of TRELCATIO.

Enter TrelcaTIO, Piero, and FUTELLI. Trel. The state in council is already set, My coming will be late; now, therefore, gentlemen, This house is free ; as your intents are sober, Your pains shall be accepted.

Fut. Mirth sometimes Falls into earnest, signor.

Piero. We, for our parts, Aim at the best.

Trel. You wrong yourselves and me else: Good success to you!

[Exit. Piero, Futelli, 't is our wisest course to follow Our pastime with discretion, by which means We may ingratiate, as our business hits, Our undertakings to great Auria's favour.

Fut. I grow quite weary of this lazy custom, Attending on the fruitless hopes of service, For meat and rags : a wit ? a shrewd preferment ! Study some scurril jests, grow old, and beg! No, let them be admired that love foul linen; I'll run a new course.

Piero. Get the coin we spend,
And knock them o'er the pate whojeer our earnings.

Fut. Hush, man; one suitor comes.
Piero. The t' other follows.
Fut. Be not so loud

[Music below.

Here comes Madonna Sweet-lips;
Mithtreth, in thooth, forthooth, will lithp it to uth.

Enter AMORETTA. Amor. Dentlemen, then ye !! Ith thith muthick yourth, or can ye tell what great manth's fidleth make it? tith vedee pretty noyth, but who thould thend it?

Piero. Does not yourself know, lady?

Amor. I do not uthe
To thpend lip-labour upon quethtionths,
That I mythelf can anthwer.

SONG below.
What, ho! we come to be merry,

Open the doors, a jovial crew,
Lusty boys and free, and very,

Very, very lusty boys are we;
We can drink till all look blue,

Dance, sing, and roar,

Never give o'er,

As long as we have e'er an eye to see. Piero. What call ye this, a song ? Amor. Yeth, a delithious thing, and wondrouth

prety. Fut. A very country-catch !—[ Aside.]-Doubtless,

some prince Belike hath sent it to congratulate Your night's repose.

Amor. Think ye tho, thignor?
Fut. This gentleman approaching comes in time
T' inform ye.

Enter Fulgoso.
Amor. Think ye tho?
I'm thure you know him.

1 Dentlemen, then ye !) i. e. den ye! good even! The reader would scarcely thank me for putting the rest of the pretty lispings of this alected fair one into articulate language. -GIFFORD.

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

gently
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.

Fut. Stand by, then, without noise, a while, brave

don, And let her only view your parts; they 'll take her.

Guz. I'll publish them in silence.

Piero. Stand you there, Fulgoso the magnificent.

Ful. Here?

Piero. Just there:
Let her survey you both; you'll be her choice,
Ne'er doubt it, man.

Ful. I cannot doubt it, man.
Piero. But speak not till I bid you.
Ful. I may whistle ?
Piero. A little to yourself, to spend the time..
Amor. Both foolth, you thay?
Fut. But hear them for your sport.
Piero. Don shall begin.-Begin, don.
Guz. My outside, lady, shrouds a prince obscured.
Amor. I thank ye for your muthicke, printh.

Guz. My words
Are music to her.

[Aside. Amor. The muthicke and the thong You thent me by thith whithling thing, your man. Guz. She took him for my man! love, thou wert just.

[Aside.
Ful. I will not hold;—his man! 't is time to speak
Before my time: oh scurvy, I his man,
That has no means for meat, or rags and seamrents !

Guz. List and wonder.
My great-great-grandsire was an ancient duke,
Styled Desver di Gonzado.'

Fut. That's, in Spanish,
An incorrigible rogue, without a fellow,
An unmatch'd rogue ; he thinks we understand not.

Guz. So was my grandfather, hight Argozile. Fut. An arrant, arrant thief-leader: pray mark it.

1 Desver (di] Gonzado,] i. e. Desvergonzado; shameless; or, as it is expounded with suflicient accuracy by the learned Futelli, “a rogue without a fellow."--GIFFORD.

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