If some few days have tempted your free heart Tha. The youth is idle.1 Par. Days, months, and years are passed since Men aphon Hath loved and served you truly; Menaphon, A man of no large distance in his blood From yours; in qualities desertful, graced Tha. Thou hast a moving eloquence, Parthenophil!Parthenophil, in vain we strive to cross The destiny that guides us. My great heart Is stooped so much beneath that wonted pride That first disguised it, that I now prefer A miserable life with thee before All other earthly comforts. By me, repeats the self-same words to you: You are too cruel, if you can distrust His truth or my report. Tha. Go where thou wilt, I'll be an exile with thee; I will learn To bear all change of fortunes. Par. I plead with grounds of reason. For my friend 1 i.e. Talks idly. Tha. For thy love, Hard-hearted youth, I here renounce all thoughts Par. Stay, as you honour virtue. Par. My love speaks t'ye: hear, then go on. Tha. Thy love! why, 'tis a charm to stop a vow In its most violent course. Par. Cupid has broke His arrows here; and, like a child unarmed, Comes to make sport between us with no weapon But feathers stolen from his mother's doves. Tha. This is mere trifling. Par. Lady, take a secret. I am as you are-in a lower rank, Else of the self-same sex-a maid, a virgin. And now, to use your own words, "if your thoughts Conceive I have laid by that modesty Which should preserve a virtuous name unstained. Tha. Are you not mankind, then? Par. When you shall read The story of my sorrows, with the change Of my misfortunes, in a letter printed 1 1 “Printed” was used in the sense merely of "recorded." From my unforged relation, I believe You will not think the shedding of one tear A prodigality that misbecomes Your pity and my fortune. Tha. The errors of my passion. Par. Pray, conceal Would I had Much more of honour-as for life, I value't not— A hard task for my reason to relinquish The affection which was once devoted thine I shall awhile repute thee still the youth Who do direct our hearts laugh at our follies! I come, So private! is this well, Parthenophil? Par. Sir, noble sir, Men. You are unkind and treacherous; This 'tis to trust a straggler! Tha. Prithee, servant,— Men. I dare not question you; you are my mistress, My prince's nearest kinswoman: but he— Tha. Come, you are angry. Men. Henceforth I will bury Unmanly passion in perpetual silence : I'll court mine own distraction, dote on folly, Which in her best of constancy is steadiest Tha. How dare ye talk to me thus? Men. Dare! Were you not own sister to my friend, Sister to my Amethus, I would hurl ye As far off from mine eyes as from my heart; For I would never more look on ye. Take Your jewel t'ye!-And, youth, keep under wing, Tha. If commands be of no force, 'Tis naught. Let me entreat thee, Menaphon. Men. Fie, fie, Parthenophil! have I deserved Par. Men. I do protest― You shall not: Henceforth I will be free, and hate my bondage. Enter AMETHUS. Amet. Away, away to court! The prince is pleased [Exeunt. SCENE III.-A Room in the Palace. Enter PALADOR, SOPHRONOS, ARETUS, and CORAX; Servants with torches. Cor. Lights and attendance !—I will show your high ness A trifle of mine own brain. If you can, Soph. Yes, and grace it too, sir, For Corax else is humorous and testy. Are. By any means; men singular in art Have always some odd whimsey more than usual. The root as well of every apish frenzy, Laughter, and mirth, as dulness. Pray, my lord, Hold, and observe the plot [Gives PALADOR a paper]: 'tis there expressed In kind, what shall be now expressed in action. 1 An unfledged bird, a nestling: metaphorically, anything in an imperfect, unfinished state. In the first sense the word is still used in that part of Devonshire where Ford was born, and perhaps in many other places.-It is undoubtedly (among other things) a small fish of some kind; but I have given it a meaning more familiar to me, as I am persuaded it was to Ford.-Gifford. 66 2 Ford has here introduced one of those interludes in which the old stage so much delighted. The various characters of these 'apish frenzies," as he calls them, he has taken from Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, the book to which he refers in a former scene. He cannot be said to have improved what he has borrowed, which, on the contrary, reads better in Burton's pages than his own. -Gifford. |