SCENE II.

Another Room in the Palace.

Enter RHETIAS, carelessly attired.

Rhe. I will not court the madness of the times; Not fawn upon the riots that embalm

Our wanton gentry, to preserve the dust
Of their affected vanities in coffins

Of memorable shame. When commonwealths
Totter and reel from that nobility

And ancient virtue which renowns the great,
Who steer the helm of government, while mush-

rooms

Grow up, and make new laws to license folly;
Why should not I, a May-game,' scorn the weight
Of my sunk fortunes? snarl at the vices2
Which rot the land, and,3 without fear or wit,
Be mine own antic? "Tis a sport to live
When life is irksome, if we will not hug
Prosperity in others, and contemn

Affliction in ourselves. This rule is certain;
"He that pursues his safety from the school
"Of state, must learn to be madman or fool."
Ambition, wealth, ease I renounce-the devil
That damns you here on earth.—Or I will be
Mine own mirth, or mine own tormentor.-So!

Enter PELIAS.

Here comes intelligence; a buzz o' the court.
Pel. Rhetias, I sought thee out to tell thee news,
New, excellent new news. Cuculus, sirrah,
That gull, that young old gull, is coming this way.

1 Why should not I, a May-game, &c.] i. e. an unconsidered trifle, a jest, a piece of mirth.-GI FORD.

2 Snarl at the vices.] Snarl (as well as girl) is commonly made a dissyllable by our poet.-GIFFORD.

3 i. e. boldly, desperately, without care of consequences.

Rhe. And thou art his forerunner!

Pel. Prithee, hear me.

Instead of a fine guarded' page we have got him
A boy, trick'd up in neat and handsome fashion;
Persuaded him, that 't is indeed a wench,

And he has entertain'd him; he does follow him,
Carries his sword and buckler, waits on 's trencher,
Fills him his wine, tobacco; whets his knife,
Lackeys his letters, does what service else
He would employ his man in. Being ask'd
Why he is so irregular in courtship,
His answer is, that since great ladies use
Gentlemen-ushers, to go bare before them,
He knows no reason, but he may reduce
The courtiers to have women wait on them;
And he begins the fashion: he is laughed at
Most complimentally.-Thou 'lt burst to see him.

Enter CUCULUS followed by GRILLA, both fantastically dressed.

Look, look, he comes' observe him seriously.
Cuc. Reach me my sword and buckler.
Gril. They are here, forsooth.

Cuc. How now, minx, how now! where is your duty, your distance? Let me have service methodically tendered; you are now one of us. You courtesy. [GRILLA courtesies.] Good, remember that you are to practise courtship. Was thy father a piper, say'st thou?

Gril. A sounder of some such instrument, forsooth.

Cuc. Was he so?-hold up thy head. Be thou musical to me, and I will marry thee to a dancer; one that shall ride on his footcloth, and maintain thee in thy muff and hood.

1 Instead of a fine guarded page,] i. e. of a page with a livery richly laced, or turned up.-GIFFOrd.

2 Courtship.] The behaviour necessary to be observed at court; the manners of a courtier.-STEEVENS.

Gril. That will be fine indeed.
Cac. Thou art yet but simple.
Gril. Do you think so?

Cuc. I have a brain; I have a headpiece: o' my conscience, if I take pains with thee, I should raise thy understanding, girl, to the height of a nurse, or a court-midwife at least.

Gril. E'en do your pleasure with me, sir.

Pel. [coming forward.] Noble, accomplished Cu

culus !

Rhe. Give me thy fist, innocent.

Cuc. Would 't were in thy belly! there't is.

Pel. That's well; he 's an honest blade, though he be blunt.

Cuc. Who cares! We can be as blunt as he, for his life.

CORAX passes over the Stage.

Pel. Corax, the prince's chief physician!

What business speeds his haste?-Are all things well, sir?

Cor. Yes, yes, yes.

Rhe. Phew! you may wheel about, man; we know you are proud of your slovenry and practice; 'tis your virtue. The prince's melancholy fit, I presume, holds still.

Cor. So do thy knavery and desperate beggary. Cuc. Aha! here's one will tickle the bandog. Rhe. You must not go yet.

Cor. I'll stay in spite of thy teeth. There lies my gravity. Throws off his gown.]-Do what thou dar'st; I stand thee.

Rhe. Thou art in thy religion an atheist, in thy

1 There lies my gravity (throws off his gown).] Thus Prospero, when he throws off his mantle, exclaims,

"Lie there, my art."

And Fuller tells us that the great Lord Burleigh, when he put off his gown at night, used to say,

"Lie there Lord Treasurer."-GIFFORD.

condition a cur, in thy diet an epicure, in thy sleep a hog; thou tak'st upon thee the habit of a grave physician, but art indeed an impostorous' empiric.

Cuc. To 't, to 't! hold him to 't! hold him to 't! to 't, to 't, to 't.

Cor. The best worth in thee is the corruption of thy mind: a thing bred out of the filth and superfluity of ill humours. Thou art fortune's idiot, virtue's bankrupt, manhood's scandal, and thine own scourge. Thou wouldst hang thyself, so wretchedly miserable thou art, but that no man will trust thee with as much money as will buy a halter; and all thy stock to be sold is not worth half as much as may procure it.

Rhe. Ha, ha, ha! this is flattery, gross flattery.

Cor. I have employment for thee, and for ye all. Tut! these are but good-morrows between us. I'll shape ye all for a device before the prince; we 'll try how that can move him.

Rhe. He shall fret or laugh.

Cuc. Must I make one?

Cor. Yes, and your feminine page too.

Gril. Thanks, most egregiously.

Pel. I will not slack my part.

Cuc. Wench, take my buckler.

Cor. Come all into my chamber; the project is cast; the time only we must attend.

Rhe. The melody must agree well and yield sport, When such as these are, knaves and fools, consort. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.

An Apartment in the House of THAMASTA.

Enter AMETHUS, THAMASTA, and KALA.

Amet. Does this show well?

Tha. What would you have me do?

1 i. e. deceitful, cheating.

Amet. Not like a lady of the trim, new crept
Into the glitt'ring pomp of ease and wantonness,
Embroideries, and all these antic fashions,
That shape a woman monstrous; to transform
Your education, and a noble birth,

Into contempt and laughter. Sister! sister!
She who derives her blood from princes, ought
To glorify her greatness by humility.

Tha. Then you conclude me proud?
Amet. Young Menaphon,

My worthy friend, has loved you long and truly:
To witness his obedience to your scorn,

Twelve months, wrong'd gentleman, he undertook
A voluntary exile. Wherefore, sister,

In this time of his absence, have you not
Disposed of your affections on some monarch?
Or sent ambassadors to some neighb'ring king
With fawning protestations of your graces,
Your rare perfections, admirable beauty?
This had been a new piece of modesty,
Would have deserv'd a chronicle!

Tha. You are bitter;

And, brother, by your leave, not kindly wise.'
My freedom is my birth; I am not bound
To fancy your approvements, but my own.
Indeed, you are an humble youth! I hear of
Your visits, and your loving commendation
To your heart's saint, Cleophila, a virgin
Of rare excellence. What though she want
A portion to maintain a portly greatness!
Yet 't is your gracious sweetness to descend
So low; the meekness of your pity leads you!
She is your dear friend's sister! a good soul!
An innocent!

Amet. Thamasta!

Tha. I have given

Your Menaphon a welcome home, as fits me;

1 Not kindly wise,] i. e. your wisdom has not the natural tenderness of a brother in it.-GIFFORD.