Amet. It does. If thou mean'st the prince, He's the same melancholy man He was at's father's death; sometimes speaks sense, But seldom mirth; will smile, but seldom laugh; Gaze upon revels, antic fopperies, But is not moved; will sparingly discourse, Hath seldom mentioned. Men. Why should such as I am Groan under the light burthen of small sorrows, In several shapes: as miseries do grow, They alter as men's forms; but how none know. I have observed abroad: all countries else To a free eye and mind yield something rare; Men. A jewel, my Amethus, a fair youth; Men. Passing from Italy to Greece, the tales Which poets of an elder time have feigned Sorrow. To glorify their Tempe, bred in me To Thessaly I came; and living private, Without acquaintance of more sweet companions I day by day frequented silent groves Men. I shall soon resolve ye. This youth, this fair-faced youth, upon his lute, A nightingale, Men. The challenge, and for every several strain The well-shaped youth could touch, she sung her own; That such they were than hope to hear again. 1 Vide (Ford says) Fami. Stradam, lib. ii. Prolus. 6. Acad. 2. Imitat. Claudian. This story has been paraphrased by Crashaw, Ambrose Philips, and others. You term them rightly; Men. Whom art had never taught cliffs, moods, or notes, Concord in discord, lines of differing method Amet. Now for the bird. Men. The bird, ordained to be Music's first martyr, strove to imitate These several sounds; which when her warbling throat Failed in, for grief down dropped she on his lute, And brake her heart. It was the quaintest sadness, To see the conqueror upon her hearse To weep a funeral elegy of tears; That, trust me, my Amethus, I could chide Mine own unmanly weakness, that made me Amet. I believe thee. Men. He looked upon the trophies of his art, Then sighed, then wiped his eyes, then sighed and cried, "Alas, poor creature! I will soon revenge This cruelty upon the author of it; Henceforth this lute, guilty of innocent blood, To an untimely end :" and in that sorrow, I suddenly stept in. Amet. A truth of mirth and pity. Thou hast discoursed 1 Dashing. The intended execution with entreaties And interruption.-But, my princely friend, Did overmatch birds, when his voice and beauty, To choose me his companion. Whence he is, So gently he would woo not to make known; Willingly. Men. Your matchless friendship, and my desperate love, Prevailed with him; and I have lodged him privately In Famagosta. Amet. Now thou'rt doubly welcome : I will not lose the sight of such a rarity For one part of my hopes. When d'ye intend To visit my great-spirited sister? Men. Without offence? Amet. May I Without offence.---Parthenophil Shall find a worthy entertainment too. Men. She's too excellent, And I too low in merit. Amet. I'll prepare A noble welcome; and, friend, ere we part, Unload to thee an overchargèd heart. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Another Room in the Palace. Enter RHETIAS, carelessly attired. Rhe. I will not court the madness of the times; Our wanton gentry, to preserve the dust Of memorable shame. When commonwealths And ancient virtue which renowns the great, Who steer the helm of government, while mushrooms 1 "Snarl" as well as "girl," is commonly made a dissyllable by our poet he passed his youth in the neighbourhood of Dartmoor, and probably adopted the practice of that wild district.- Gifford. 2 i.e. Carelessly. 3 Buffoon. |