Son. O this is gallant pastime. Is this your school? was that your

Nay, come on.
lesson, ha?

1st Old Man. Pray now, good son, indeed, indeed—

Son. Indeed

You shall to school. Away with him; and take
Their wagships with him, the whole cluster of 'em.

2nd Old Man. You shan't send us now, so you shan't—
3rd Old Man. We be none of your father, so we ben't.
Son. Away with 'em, I say; and tell their school-mistress
What truants they are, and bid her pay 'em soundly.
All three. Oh, Oh, Oh!

Lady. Alas! will nobody beg pardon for

The poor old boys? 1

English Traveller. Do men of such fair years here go to school?
Gentleman. They would die dunces else.2

These were great scholars in their youth; but when
Age grows upon men here, their learning wastes,
And so decays, that if they live until

Threescore, their sons send them to school again;
They'd die as speechless else as new-born children.
English Traveller. 'Tis a wise nation; and the piety
Of the young men most rare and commendable.
Yet give me, as a stranger, leave to beg
Their liberty this day.3

Son. "Tis granted.

Hold up your heads, and thank the Gentleman,

Like scholars, with your heels now.

All three. Gratias, gratias, gratias.

(Exeunt singing.)

[Act ii., Scs. 8, 9.]

THE SPARAGUS GARDEN. A COMEDY [PUBLISHED 1640: PRODUCED 1635]. BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Private Conference.

Father-in-Law. You'll not assault me in my own house, nor urge me beyond my patience with your borrowing attempts. Spendthrift Knight. I have not used the word of loan or borrowing;

Only some private conference I requested.
Fath. Private conference! a new-coined

word for borrowing of

money. I tell you, your very face, your countenance, tho' it be

[Six lines omitted.]

[Seven lines.]

[Two and a half lines.]

I have a strange noise in my head. Oh, fly in [pieces].
Come, age, and wither me into the malice
Of those that have been happy; let me have
One property for more than the devil of hell;
Let me envy the pleasure of youth heartily;
Let me in this life fear no kind of ill,

That have no good to hope for.1 Let me sink,

Where neither man nor memory may find me. (Falls to the ground.2) Confessor (entering). You are well employ'd, I hope; the best pillow in th' world

For this your contemplation is the earth,

And the best object, Heaven.
Leonora. I am whispering

To a dead friend

Obstacles.

Let those, that would oppose this union,
Grow ne'er so subtle, and entangle themselves
In their own work, like spiders; while we two
Haste to our noble wishes; and presume,
The hindrance of it will breed more delight,-
As black copartaments shews gold more bright.

[Act iii., Sc. 3.]

Falling out.

To draw the Picture of Unkindness truly
Is, to express two that have dearly loved
And fal'n at variance.

[Act i., Sc. 2.]

[Act i., Sc. 1.]

THE BRIDE. A COMEDY [PUBLISHED 1640]. BY THOMAS NABBS

Antiquities.

HORTEN, a Collector. His friend.

Friend. You are [likewise] learned in Antiquities ?
Hort. A little, Sir.

I should affect them more, were not tradition

One of the best assurances to show

They are the things we think them. What more proofs,

[Four lines and a half omitted.]

[Four lines.]

Except perhaps a little circumstance,
Have we for this or that to be a piece
Of Delphos' ruins? or the marble statues,
Made Athens glorious when she was supposed
To have more images of men than men ?
A weather-beaten stone, with an inscription
That is not legible but thro' an optic,
Tells us its age; that in some Sibyl's cave
Three thousand years ago it was an altar,
"Tis satisfaction to our curiosity,

But ought not to necessitate belief.-1
For Antiquity,

I do not store up any under Grecian ;

Your Roman antiques are but modern toys

Compared to them. Besides they are so counterfeit
With mouldings, 'tis scarce possible to find
Any but copies.

Friend. Yet you are confident
Of yours, that are of more doubt.
Hort. Others from their easiness

May credit what they please. My trial's such
Of any thing I doubt, all the impostors,
That ever made Antiquity ridiculous,
Cannot deceive me. If I light upon

Aught that's above my skill, I have recourse
To those, whose judgment at the second view
(If not the first) will tell me what Philosopher's
That eye-less, nose-less, mouth-less Statue is,
And who the workman was; tho' since his death
Thousands of years have been revolved.

[Act iv., Sc. 1.2]

Accidents to frustrate Purpose.

How various are the events that may depend
Upon one action, yet the end proposed
Not follow the intention! accidents

Will interpose themselves; like those rash men,

That thrust into a throng, occasioned

By some tumultuous difference, where perhaps
Their busy curiosity begets

New quarrels with new issues.3

[Twelve and a half lines omitted.]

[For another extract from Nabbes see page 448.]

[Act v., Sc. 2.]

"[Ed. Bullen, vol. ii.]

THE GENTLEMAN USHER. A COMEDY [PUBLISHED 1606]. BY G. CHAPMAN

Vincentio, a Prince, (to gain him over to his interest in a loveaffair) gulls Bassiolo, a formal Gentleman Usher to a Great Lord, with commendations of his wise house-ordering at a great Entertainment.

Vinc. -besides, good Sir, your Show did shew so well-
Bass. Did it indeed, my Lord ?

Vinc. O Sir, believe it,

"Twas the best fashion'd and well-order'd thing,

That ever eye beheld: and therewithal,
The fit attendance by the servants used,
The gentle guise in serving every guest,
In other entertainments; every thing
About your house so sortfully disposed,
That ev'n as in a turn-spit (call'd a Jack)
One vice1 assists another; the great wheels,
Turning but softly, make the less to whirr
About their business; every different part
Concurring to one commendable end:

So, and in such conformance, with rare grace
Were all things ordered in your good Lord's house.
Bass. The most fit Simile that ever was.

Vinc. But shall I tell you plainly my conceit,
Touching the man that (I think) caused this order?
Bass. Aye, good my Lord.

Vinc. You note my Simile?

Bass. Drawn from the turn-spit
Vinc. I see, you have me.

Even as in that quaint engine you have seen
A little man in shreds stand at the winder,
And seems to put in act all things about him,
Lifting and pulling with a mighty stir,-
Yet adds no force to it, nor nothing does :
So, though your Lord be a brave gentleman,
And seems to do this business, he does nothing.
Some man about him was the festival robe

That made him shew so glorious and divine.

If

Bass. I cannot tell, my Lord; but I should know, any such there were.

Vinc. Should know, quoth you?

1 Turn.

Fel. See thee I will.

Zel. See me you shall:

But touch not fruit you must not taste.

What says it, now the leaf doth fall?
Fel. It says, 'tis worthy to comprise
The kernel of so rare a wit:
Nor, that it grows in Paradise;
But Paradise doth grow in it.

The tall and slender trunk no less divine,
Tho' in a lowly Shepherdess's rine.1

This should be that so famous Queen
For unquell'd valour and disdain.—
In these Enchanted Woods is seen
Nothing but illusions vain.

Zel. What stares the man at?
Fel. I compare

A picture I once mine did call—
With the divine Original.

Zel. Fall'n asleep again you are:

We poor human Shepherd Lasses

Nor are pictured, nor use glasses.

(She takes off her veil.)

(He begins to know her.)

Who skip their rank themselves and betters wrong;
To our Dames, God bless 'em, such quaint things belong.

Here a tiny brook alone,

Which fringed with borrow'd flowers (he has

Gold and silver enough on his own)

Is heaven's proper looking-glass,

Copies us and its reflections,

Shewing natural perfections,

Free from soothing, free from error,
Are our pencil, are our mirror.
Fel. Art thou a Shepherdess?

Zel. and bore

On a mountain, called THERE.

Fel. Wear'st thou ever heretofore

Lady's clothes?

Zel. I Lady's gear?

Yes-what a treacherous poll have I !—

In a Country Comedy

I once enacted a main part;
Still I have it half by heart:
The famous History it was
Of an Arabian-let me see—

1[Rind, skin.]