But wherefore drop thy words in such a sloth,
As if thou wert afraid to mingle truth

With thy misfortunes? Understand me thoroughly;
I would not have thee to report at large,
From point to point, a journal of thy absence,
"Twill take up too much time; I would securely
Engross the little remnant of my life,

That thou might'st every day be telling somewhat,
Which might convey me to my rest with comfort.
Let me bethink me; how we parted first,
Puzzles my faint remembrance-but soft-
Cleophila, thou told'st me that the prince
Sent me this present.

Cleo. From his own fair hands

I did receive my sister.

Mel. To requite him,

We will not dig his father's grave anew,

Although the mention of him much concerns
The business we inquire of :-as I said,

We parted in a hurry at the court;

I to this castle, after made my jail;
But whither thou, dear heart?

Rhe. Now they fall to't;

I look'd for this.

Ero. I, by my uncle's care..

Sophronos, my good uncle, suddenly

Was like a sailor's boy convey'd a-shipboard,
That very night.

Mel. A policy quick and strange.

Ero. The ship was bound for Corinth, whither first,

Attended only with your servant Rhetias,
And all fit necessaries, we arrived;

From thence, in habit of a youth, we journey'd
To Athens, where, till our return of late,
Have we liv'd safe.

Mel. Oh, what a thing is man,

To bandy factions of distemper'd passions,
Against the sacred Providence above him!
Here, in the legend of thy two years' exile,
Rare pity and delight are sweetly mix'd.—
And still thou wert a boy?

Ero. So I obey'd

My uncle's wise command.

Mel. 'Twas safely carried;

I humbly thank thy fate.

Ero. If earthly treasures

Are pour'd in plenty down from heaven on mortals,
They reign amongst those oracles that flow

In schools of sacred knowledge, such is Athens ;
Yet Athens was to me but a fair prison:
The thoughts of you, my sister, country, fortunes,
And something of the prince, barr'd all contents,
Which else might ravish sense: for had not
Rhetias

Been always comfortable to me, certainly
Things had gone worse.

Mel. Speak low, Eroclea,

That "something of the prince" bears danger in

it:

Yet thou hast travell'd, wench, for such endowments,

As might create a prince a wife fit for him,
Had he the world to guide; but touch not there.
How cam'st thou home?

Rhe. Sir, with your noble favour,
Kissing your hand first, that point I can answer.
Mel. Honest, right honest Rhetias !
Rhe. Your grave brother

Perceiv'd with what a hopeless love his son,

Lord Menaphon, too eagerly pursued
Thamasta, cousin to our present prince;
And, to remove the violence of affection,
Sent him to Athens, where, for twelve months'
space,.

Your daughter, my young lady, and her cousin,
Enjoy'd each other's griefs; till by his father,
The lord Sophronos, we were all call'd home.
Mel. Enough, enough! the world shall hence-
forth witness

My thankfulness to heaven, and those people
Who have been pitiful to me and mine.
Lend me a looking-glass.-How now! how came I
So courtly, in fresh raiments?

Rhe. Here's the glass, sir.

Mel. I'm in the trim too.-O Cleophila, This was the goodness of thy care, and cunning

[Loud Music.

Whence comes this noise?
Rhe. The prince, my lord, in person.

[They kneel.

Enter PALADOR, SOPHRONOS, ARETUS, AMETHUS,
MENAPHON, CORAX, THAMasta, and KALA.

Pal. You shall not kneel to us; rise all, I charge

you.

Father, you wrong your age; henceforth my arms
[Embracing MEL.
And heart shall be your guard: we have o'erheard
All passages of your united loves.
Be young again, Meleander, live to number
A happy generation, and die old

In comforts, as in years! The offices
And honours, which I late on thee conferr'd,
Are not fantastic bounties, but thy merit;
Enjoy them liberally.

Mel. My tears must thank you,

For my tongue cannot.

Cor. I have kept my promise, And given you a sure cordial. Mel. Oh, a rare one.

Pal. Good man! we both have shar'd enough

of sadness,

Though thine has tasted deeper of the extreme;
Let us forget it henceforth. Where's the picture
I sent you? Keep it; 'tis a counterfeit ;
And, in exchange of that, I seize on this,

[Takes ERO, by the hand.
The real substance: with this other hand
I give away, before her father's face,
His younger joy, Cleophila, to thee,
Cousin Amethus; take her, and be to her
More than a father, a deserving husband.
Thus, robb'd of both thy children in a minute,
Thy cares are taken off.

Mel. My brains are dull'd;

I am entranced and know not what you mean.
Great, gracious sir, alas! why do you mock me?
I am a weak old man, so poor and feeble,
That my untoward joints can scarcely creep
Unto the grave, where I must seek my rest.

Pal. Eroclea was, you know, contracted mine; Cleophila my cousin's, by consent

Of both their hearts; we both now claim our own:
It only rests in you to give a blessing,
For confirmation.

Rhe. Sir, 'tis truth and justice.

Mel. The gods, that lent you to me, bless your

Vows!

Oh, children, children, pay your prayers to heaven,

Friar. Have done, unhappy youth! for thou art lost.

Gio. Shall, then, for that I am her brother born,
My joys be ever banished from her bed?
No, father; in your eyes I see the change

Of pity and compassion; from your age,
As from a sacred oracle, distils

The life of counsel: tell me, holy man,
What cure shall give me ease in these extremes?
Friar. Repentance, son, and sorrow for this sin:
For thou hast mov'd a Majesty above,
With thy unranged (almost) blasphemy.

Gio. O do not speak of that, dear confessor.
Friar. Art thou, my son, that miracle of wit,
Who once, within these three months, wert esteem'd
A wonder of thine age, throughout Bononia?
How did the University applaud

Thy government, behaviour, learning, speech,
Sweetness, and all that could make up a man!
I was proud of my tutelage, and chose
Rather to leave my books, than part with thee;
I did so :-but the fruits of all my hopes
Are lost in thee, as thou art in thyself.
O Giovanni! hast thou left the schools
Of knowledge, to converse with lust and death?
For death waits on thy lust. Look through the
And thou shalt see a thousand faces shine [world,
More glorious than this idol thou ador'st:

Leave her, and take thy choice, 'tis much less sin;
Though in such games as those, they lose that win.
Gio. It were more ease to stop the ocean
From floats and ebbs, than to dissuade my vows.
Friar. Then I have done, and in thy wilful
Already see thy ruin; Heaven is just.-
Yet hear my counsel.

Gio. As a voice of life.

[flames

Friar. Hie to thy father's house, there lock thee fast

Alone within thy chamber; then fall down
On both thy knees, and grovel on the ground;
Cry to thy heart; wash every word thou utter'st
In tears (and if't be possible) of blood:
Beg Heaven to cleanse the leprosy of lust
That rots thy soul; acknowledge what thou art,
A wretch, a worm, a nothing; weep, sigh, pray
Three times a-day, and three times every night:
For seven days space do this; then, if thou find'st
No change in thy desires, return to me;
I'll think on remedy. Pray for thyself
At home, whilst I pray for thee here.-Away!
My blessing with thee! we have need to pray.

Gio. All this I'll do, to free me from the rod Of vengeance; else I'll swear my fate's my god. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Street, before FLORIO's House.

Enter GRIMALDI and VASQUES, with their Swords drawn. Vas. Come, sir, stand to your tackling; if you prove craven, I'll make you run quickly.

Grim. Thou art no equal match for me. Vas. Indeed I never went to the wars to bring home news; nor I cannot play the mountebank for a meal's meat, and swear I got my wounds in the field. See you these grey hairs? they'll not flinch for a bloody nose. Wilt thou to this gear?

Grim. Why, slave, think'st thou I'll balance

my reputation with a cast-suit? Call thy master, he shall know that I dare

Vas. Scold like a cot-quean:-that's your pro fession. Thou poor shadow of a soldier, I will make thee know my master keeps servants, thy betters in quality and performance. Com'st thou to fight or prate?

Grim. Neither, with thee. I am a Roman and a gentleman; one that have got mine honour wich expense of blood.

Vas. You are a lying coward, and a fool. Fight, or by these hilts I'll kill thee-brave my loed! You'll fight?

Grim. Provoke me not, for if thou dost-
Vas. Have at you.

[They fight, GRINALDI is worstel.

Enter FLORIO, DONADO, and SORANDO, from opposite Sidies.

Flo. What mean these sudden broils so near my doors?

Have you not other places, but my house,
To vent the spleen of your disorder'd bloods?
Must I be haunted still with such unrest,
As not to eat, or sleep in peace at home?
Is this your love, Grimaldi? Fie! 'tis naught.
Don. And, Vasques, I may tell thee, 'tis not
well

To broach these quarrels; you are ever forward
In seconding contentions.

Enter above ANNABELLA and PUTANA.

Flo. What's the ground?

Sor. That, with your patience, signiors, I'll resolve:

This gentleman, whom fame reports a soldier,
(For else I know not) rivals me in love
To Signior Florio's daughter: to whose ears
He still prefers his suit, to my disgrace;
Thinking the way to recommend himself,
Is to disparage me in his report.—

But know, Grimaldi, though, may be, thou art
My equal in thy blood, yet this bewrays

A lowness in thy mind; which, wert thou noble,
Thou would'st as much disdain, as I do thee
For this unworthiness; and on this ground
I will'd my servant to correct his tongue,
Holding a man so base no match for me.

Vas. And had not your sudden coming prevented us, I had let my gentleman blood under the gills; I should have worm'd you, sir, for running

mad.

Flo. My lord Soranzo, this is strange to me; Why you should storm, having my word engaged: Owing her heart, what need you doubt her ear? Losers may talk, by law of any game.

Vas. Yet the villainy of words, Signior Flono, may be such, as would make any unspleened dove choleric. Blame not my lord in this.

Flo. Be you more silent;

I would not for my wealth, my daughter's love
Should cause the spilling of one drop of blood.
Vasques, put up: let's end this fray in wine.

[Erment. Put. How like you this, child? here's threat