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.

Men. Fear nothing.

[Aside to MEN.

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,

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.

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, surprizing her into an avowal of her attachment to his friend.

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.

G

Kala. Not I? I do protest

I have been, madam.

Tha. Be-no matter what!

I am pay'd in mine own coin; something I must,
And speedily.-So!-seek out Cuculus,
Bid him attend me instantly.

Kala. That antick!

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.

SCENE II.

A Room in the Castle.

Enter RHETIAS and CORAX.

Rhe. Thou art an excellent fellow.

[Exeunt.

Diabolo!

O these lousy close-stool 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, 'tis pity thou'dst not been a scholar;

Thou'rt honest, blunt, and rude enough, o' conscience!

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

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

Cor. Rhetias, 'tis not a madness, but his sor

rows

(Close griping grief, and anguish of the soul) That torture him; he carries hell on earth Within his bosom: 'twas 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 'tis i' th' full meridian of his beauty:
No cloud of black detraction can eclipse
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.
[Exit.
Cor. Farewell! A shrewd-brain'd whoreson ;

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

'twas a prince's tyranny

Caused his distraction, &c.] Here again poor Corax has just stumbled on what the prince had discovered long before: never, surely, was reputation so cheaply obtained as by this compound of fool and physician.

3 Morion.] A head-piece, a helmet.

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.

Cor. No matter for the morion; here's my cap: Thus I will pull it down, and thus outstare him.

[He produces a frightful Mask and Head-piece. Trol. The physician is got as mad as my lord. -O brave! a man of worship.

Cor. Let him come, Trollio. I will firk his trangdido, and bounce, and bounce in metal, honest Trollio.

Trol. He vapours like a tinker, and struts like a juggler. [Aside.

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. Shew me the dog, whose triple-throated noise

Hath rous'd a lion from his uncouth den,

To tear the cur in pieces.

To make room for the pageants.] An allusion to the cityofficers, who headed the shows on the Lord Mayor's day, and opened the passage for the masquers. 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.