'Tis nobleness in thee, in her but duty. The match is fair and equal, the success I leave to censure ;' farewell, mistress bride! (Exit.

Som. Good master Thorney

Car. Nay, you shall not part till you see the barrels run a-tilt, gentlemen. [Exit with SOMERTON.

Sus. Why change you your face, sweetheart?
Frank. Who, I? for nothing.
Sus. Dear, say not so; a spirit of your con-

stancy
Cannot endure this change for nothing.
I have observ'd strange variations in you.

Frank. In me?

Sus. In you, sir.
Awake, you seem to dream, and in your sleep
You utter sudden and distracted accents,
Like one at enmity with peace.
Dear loving husband, if I
May dare to challenge any interest in you,
Give me the reason fully; you may trust
My breast as safely as your own.

Frank. With what ?
You half-amaze me ; přitheem

Sus. Come, you shall not,
Indeed you shall not shut me from partaking
The least dislike that grieves you; I am all yours.

Frank. And I all thine.

Sus. You are not, if you keep
The least grief from me; but I find the cause,
It grew from me.

Frank. From you?

Sus. From some distaste
In me or my behaviour; you are not kind
In the concealment. 'Las, sir, I am young,
Silly, and plain: more, strange to those contents
A wife should offer: say but in what I fail,
I'll study satisfaction.

Frank. Come; in nothing.

Sus. I know I do; knew I as well in what,
You should not long be sullen. Prithee, love,
If I have been immodest or too bold,
Speak 't in a frown; if peevishly too nice,
Show 't in smile; thy liking is the glass
By which I'll habit my behaviour.
: Frank. Wherefore
Dost weep now?

Sus. You, sweet, have the power
To make me passionate as an April-day ;',
Now smile, then weep; now pale, then crimson red:
You are the powerful moon of my blood's sea,
To make it ebb or flow into my face,
As your looks change.

Frank. Change thy conceit, I prithee; Thou art all perfection; Diana herself Swells in thy thoughts, and moderates thy beauty. Within thy left eye amorous Cupid sits Feathering love-shafts, whose golden heads he dipp'd In thy chaste breast;2 in the other lies Blushing Adonis scarf'd in modesties; And still as wanton Cupid blows love-fires, Adonis quenches out unchaste desires : And from these two I briefly do imply A perfect emblem of thy modesty, Then, prithee, dear, maintain no more dispute, For where thou speak'st, it's fit all tongues be mute.

Sus. Come, come, these golden strings of flattery
Shall not tie up my speech, sir; I must know
The ground of your disturbance.

Frank. Then look here;
For here, here is the fen in which this hydra
Of discontent grows rank.

Sus. Heaven shield it! where?
Frank. In mine own bosom, here the cause has

root:
The poison'd leeches twist about my heart,
And will, I hope, confound me.

Sus. You speak riddles.
Frank. Take't plainly then; 't was told me by a

woman
Known and approved in palmistry,
I should have two wives.

Sus. Two wives ! sir, I take it
Exceedingly likely; but let not conceit hurt you:
You are afraid to bury me?

Frank. No, no, my Winnifrede.
Sus. How say you? Winnifrede! you forget me.
Frank. No, I forget myself, Susan.
Sus. In what?

Frank. Talking of wives, I pretend Winnifrede,
A maid that at my mother's waited on me
Before thyself.

Sus. I hope, sir, she may live To take my place; but why should all this move you?

Frank. The poor girl, -she has 't before thee, And that's the fiend torments me.

[Aside. Sus. Yet why should this Raise mutiny within you? such presages Prove often false: or say it should be true ?

Frank. That I should have another wife ?

Sus. Yes, many;
If they be good, the better.

Frank. Never any
Equal to thee in goodness..

Sus. Sir, I could wish I were much better for you;
Yet if I knew your fate
Ordain'd you for another, I could wish
(So well I love you and your hopeful pleasure)
Me in my grave, and my poor virtues added
To my successor.

Frank. Prithee, prithee, talk not

Of death or graves thou art so rare a goodness ;
As Death would rather put itself to death,
Than murder thee; but we, as all things else,
Are mutable and changing.

Sus. Yet you still move
In your first sphere of discontent. Sweet, chase
Those clouds of sorrow, and shine clearly on me. '

Frank. At my return I will.

Sus. Return ? ah me!
Will you then leave me?

Frank. For a time I must :
But how? as birds their young, or loving bees
Their hives, to fetch home richer dainties.

Sus. Leave me!
Now has my fear met its effect. You shall not,
Cost it my life, you shall not.

Frank. Why? your reason ?

Sus. Like to the lapwing' have you all this while, With your false love, deluded me; pretending Counterfeit senses for your discontent! And now at last it is by chance stole from you.

Frank. What? what by chance ?

Sus. Your preappointed meeting of single combat with young Warbeck.

Frank. Ha!

Sus. Even so: dissemble not; 't is too apparent. Then in his look, I read it :-deny it not, I see 't apparent; cost it my undoing, And unto that my life, I will not leave you.

Frank. Not until when ?

Sus. Till he and you be friends.
Was this your cunning?—and then flam me off
With an old witch, two wives, and Winnifrede!
You are not so kind indeed as I imagined.

I Like to the lapwing, &c.]

The lapwing hath a piteous, mournful cry,
And sings a sorrowful and heavy song.
But yet she's full of craft and subtlety,
And weepeth most being farthest from her young.

SHAKSPEARE's Phoenix and Turtle.GIFFORD

Frank. And you more fond by far than I expected.

(Aside.
It is a virtue that attends thy kind
But of our business within :-and by this kiss,
I'll anger thee no more; 'troth, chuck, I will not.

Sus. You shall have no just cause.
Frank. Dear Sue, I shall not.

(Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

A Field. Enter Cuddy Banks, with the Morris-dancers. i Clown. Nay, Cuddy, prithee do not leave us now; if we part all this night, we shall not meet before day.

2 Cl. I prithee, Banks, let's keep together now.

Cud. If you were wise, a word would serve ; but as you are, I must be forced to tell you again, I have a little private business, an hour's work; it may prove but a half-hour's, as luck may serve; and then I take horse, and along with you. Have we e'er a witch in the morris ?

1 Cl. No, no; no woman's part but Maid Marian, and the hobby-horse.