COUNT. What are you, friends, that thus do* wish

us well? [ing been, HUNTS. Your neighbours nigh, that have on huntWho understanding of your walking forth, Prepar'd this train to entertain you with: This Lady Douglas, this Sir Egmond is.

[for this: COUNT. Welcome, ye ladies, and thousand thanks Come, enter you a homely widow's house, And if mine entertainment please you, let us feast. HUNTS. A lovely lady never wants a guest.

[Exeunt Countess, Huntsmen, and Ladies; manent Eustace, Ida.

EUST. Stay, gentle Ida, tell me what you deem What doth this hart,+ this tender hart beseem? IDA. Why not, my lord, since nature teacheth art To senseless beasts to cure their grievous smart; Dictamnum‡ serves to close the wound again. EUST. What help for those that love? IDA. Why, love again.

EUST. Were I the hart

IDA. Then I the herb would be:

You shall not die for help; come, follow me.

Enter ANDREW and JAQUES.

[Exeunt.

JAQ. Mon dieu, what malheur be this! Me come a the chamber, Signior Andrew, mon dieu; taka my poniard en ma maine, to give the estocade to the

*do] The 4to. "doth." + hart] The 4to. "haste." Dictamnum] or Dictamnus is the herb dittany: see Virg. Æn. xii. 411, and my note on the following lines of The Arraignment of Paris;

"And whither wends yon thriveless swain, like to the stricken deer, Seeks he dictamnum for his wound within our forest here?"

Peele's Works, vol. i. p. 33. ed. 1829.

damoisella par ma foi, there was no person; elle s'est en allé.

AND. The worse luck, Jaques: but because I am thy friend, I will advise thee somewhat towards the attainment of the gallows.

JAQ. Gallows! what be that?

AND. Marry, sir, a place of great promotion, where thou shalt by one turn above ground rid the world of a knave, and make a goodly ensample for all bloody villains of thy profession.

JAQ. Que dites vous, Monsieur Andrew?

AND. I say, Jaques, thou must keep this path, and hie thee; for the queen, as I am certified, is departed with her dwarf, apparelled like a squire. Overtake her, Frenchman, stab her: I'll promise thee, this doublet shall be happy.

JAQ. Pourquoi ?

AND. It shall serve a jolly gentleman, Sir Dominus Monsignieur Hangman.

JAQ. C'est tout un; me will rama pour le monoy.

[Exit.

AND. Go, and the rot consume thee. O, what a trim world is this! My master lives by cozening the king, I by flattering him; Slipper, my fellow, by stealing, and I by lying: is not this a wily accord, gentlemen? This last night, our jolly horsekeeper, being well steeped in liquor, confessed to me the stealing of my master's writings, and his great reward: now dare I not bewray him, lest he discover my knavery, but thus have I wrought. I understand he will pass this way, to provide him necessaries; but if I and my fellows fail not, we will teach him such a lesson as shall cost him a chief place on pennyless bench for his labour: but yond he comes.

Enter SLIPPER, with a Tailor, a Shoemaker, and a

SLIP. Tailor.
TAI. Sir.

Cutler.

SLIP. Let my doublet be white northern, five groats the yard: I tell thee, I will be brave.*

TAI. It shall, sir.

SLIP. Now, sir, cut it me like the battlements of a custard, full of round holes: edge me the sleeves with Coventry blue, and let the linings be of tenpenny lockeram.

TAI. Very good, sir.

SLIP. Make it the amorous cut, a flap before.
TAI. And why so? that fashion is stale.

SLIP. O friend, thou art a simple fellow. I tell thee a flap is a great friend to a storrie, it stands him instead of clean napery; and if a man's shirt be torn, it is a present penthouse to defend him from a clean housewife's scoff.

TAI. You say sooth, sir.

SLIP. Hold, take thy money; there is seven shillings for the doublet, and eight for the breeches: seven and eight; birlady, thirty-six is a fair deal of money.

TAI. Farewell, sir.

SLIP. Nay, but stay, tailor.

TAI. Why, sir.

SLIP. Forget not this special make,+ let my back parts be well lined, for there come many winter storms from a windy belly, I tell thee. [Exit Tailor. Shoemaker.

SHOE. Gentleman, what shoe will it please you to have?

SLIP. A fine neat calves' leather, my friend.

brave] i. e. fine.

+ make] The 4to. " mate."

SHOE. O, sir, that is too thin, it will not last you. SLIP. I tell thee, it is my near kinsman, for I am Slipper, which hath his best grace in summer to be suited in lakus skins. Goodwife Clark was my grandmother, and goodman Netherleather mine uncle; but my mother, good woman, alas, she was a Spaniard, and being well tanned and dressed by a goodfellow, an Englishman, is grown to some wealth: as when I have but my upper parts clad in her husband's costly Spanish leather, I may be bold to kiss the fairest lady's foot in this country.

all

SHOE. You are of high birth, sir: but have you your mother's marks on you?

SLIP. Why, knave?

SHOE. Because if thou come of the blood of the Slippers, you should have a shoemaker's awl thrust through your ear.

SLIP. Take your earnest, friend, and be packing, and meddle not with my progenitors.

Cutler.

CUT. Here, sir.

[Exit Shoemaker.

SLIP. I must have a rapier and dagger.* CUT. A rapier and dagger, you mean, sir. SLIP. Thou sayest true; but it must have a very fair edge.

CUT. Why so, sir?

SLIP. Because it may cut by himself, for truely, my friend, I am a man of peace, and wear weapons but for fashion.

CUT. Well, sir, give me earnest, I will fit you. SLIP. Hold, take it; I betrust thee, friend: let me be well armed.

CUT. You shall.

[Exit.

a rapier and dagger] From the Cutler's reply, it seems that Slipper miscalled the weapons; but there is no peculiarity in the spelling of the words in the 4to.

SLIP. Now what remains? there's twenty crowns for a house, three crowns for household stuff, sixpence to buy a constable's staff; nay I will be the chief of my parish. There wants nothing but a wench, a cat, a dog, a wife, and a servant, to make an whole family. Shall I marry with Alice, good man Grimshawe's daughter? she is fair, but indeed her tongue is like clocks on Shrovetuesday, always out of temper. Shall I wed Sisley of the Whighton? O, no; she is like a frog in a parsley-bed; as skittish as an eel: if I seek to hamper her, she will horn me. But a wench must be had, master Slipper; yea, and shall be, dear friend.

AND. I now will drive him from his contemplations. O, my mates, come forward: the lamb is unpent, the fox shall prevail.

Enter three Antics, who dance round, and take SLIPPER with them.

SLIP. I will, my friend, and I thank you heartily: pray keep your courtesy: I am yours in the way of an hornpipe. They are strangers, I see they understand not my language: wee, wee ! *

[Whilst they are dancing, Andrew takes away his

money, and [he and] the other Antics depart. SLIP. Nay but, my friends, one hornpipe further, a refluence back, and two doubles forward: what, not one cross point against Sundays? What ho, sirrah, you gone, you with the nose like an eagle, and you be a right Greek, one turn more. Thieves, thieves! I am robbed! thieves! Is this the knavery of fiddlers? Well, I will then bind the whole credit of their occupation on a bag-piper, and he for my money. But I will after, and teach them to caper in a halter, that have cozened me of my money. [Exit.

*

wee, wee] Perhaps this is not an exclamation, but a misprint for "well, well."

VOL. II.

K