to the touch-hole of intemperance, discharging the double culverin of my incensement in the face of thy opprobrious speech.

Cat. I'll stop the barrel thus; good Dildo, set

not fire to the touch-hole.

Dil. My rage is stopt, and I will eat to the health of the fool, thy master Castilio.

Cat. And will suck the juice of the capon, to the health of the idiot, thy master Balurdo. Dil. Faith, our masters are like a case of rapiers sheathed in one scabbard of folly.

Cat. Right Dutch blades. But was't not rare sport at the sea-battle, whilst rounce robble hobble roared from the ship sides, to view our masters pluck their plumes and drop their feathers, for fear of being men of mark?

Dil. Slud (cried Signior Balurdo); Oh for Don Bessieler's armour, in the mirror of knighthood! What coil's hero? Oh for an armour cannonproof! Oh, more cable, more featherbeds, more featherbeds, more cable, till he had as much as my cable hatband 2 to fence him!

Enter FLAVIA in haste, with a rebato.3 Cat. Buxom Flavia, can you sing? song, song. Fla. My sweet Dildo, I am not for you at this time. Madam Rossaline stays for a fresh ruff to appear in the presence. Sweet, away.

Dil. Twill not be so put off, delicate, delicious, spark-eyed, sleek-skinned, slender-waisted, cleanlegged, rarely shaped.

Fla. Who, I'll be at all your service another season. My faith, there's reason in all things. Dil. Would I were reason, then, that I might be in all things.

Cat. The breefe and the semiquaver is, we must have the descant you made upon our names, ere you depart.

Fla. Faith, the song will seem to come off hardly. 5

Cat. Troth, not a whit, if you seem to come off quickly.

Fla. Pert Catzo, knock it lustily then.

[They sing. Enter FOROBOSCO, with two torches; CASTILIO singing fantastically; ROSSALINE running a caranto pace; and BALURDO (FELICE following) wondering at them all.

Foro. Make place, gentlemen! Pages, hold torches; the prince approacheth the presence.

Dil. What squeaking cart-wheel have we here? ha! Make place, gentlemen! Pages, hold torches; the prince approacheth the presence.

Ros. Faugh, what a strong scent's here! somebody useth to wear socks.

Bal. By this fair candle-light, 'tis not my feet; I never wore socks since I sucked pap. Ros. Savourly put off.

Cast. Ha, her wit stings, blisters, galls off the skin with the tart acrimony of her sharp quickness. By sweetness, she is the very Pallas that flew out of Jupiter's brainpan! Delicious crea

Signior

ture, vouchsafe me your service: by the purity of bounty, I shall be proud of such bondage. Ros. I vouchsafe it; be my slave. Balurdo, wilt thou be my servant too? Bal. O God! forsooth in very good earnest : la! you would make me as a man should say, as a man should say.

Feli. Slud, sweet beauty, will you deign hima your service?

Ros. Oh, your fool is your only servant. But. good Felice, why art thou so sad? a penny for thy thought, man.

Feli. I sell not my thought so cheap; I value my meditation at a higher rate.

Bal. In good sober sadness, sweet mistress, you should have had my thought for a penny. By this crimson satin, that cost eleven shillings, thirteen pence, threepence halfpenny a yard, that you should, la!

Ros. What was thy thought, good servant?

Bal. Marry forsooth, how many strike of pease would feed a hog fat against Christide ? Ros. Paugh! servant, rub out my rheum, it soils the presence.

Cast. By my wealthiest thought, you grace my shoe with an unmeasured honour. I will preserve the sole of it, as a most sacred relic, for this service.

Ros. I'll spit in thy mouth, an' thou wilt, to grace thee.

Feli. Oh that the stomach of this queasy age Digests or brooks such raw, unseasoned gobs," And vomits not them forth! Oh, slavish sots! Servant, quoth you? faugh! if a dog should

crave

And beg her service, he should have it straight.
She'd give him favours, too; to lick her feet,
Or fetch her fan, or some such drudgery:
A good dog's office, which these amorists
Triumph of. "Tis rare; well, give her more ass,
More sot, as long as dropping of her nose
Is sworn rich pearl by such low slaves as those.
Ros. Flavia, attend me to attire me.

[Exeunt ROSSALINE and FLAVIA.

Bal. In sad good earnest, sir, you have touched ing hath a good gloss, and I thank my planets the very bare of naked truth; my silk stockmy leg is not altogether unpropitiously shaped. There's a word: unpropitiously? I think I shall speak unpropitiously as well as any courtier in Italy.

Foro. So help me your sweet bounty, you have the most graceful presence, applausive elecuty, amazing volubility, polished adornation, delicious affability—

Feli. Whop: fut, how he tickles yon trout under the gills! You shall see him take him by and by with groping flattery.

Foro. That ever ravished the ear of wonder. By your sweet self, than whom I know not a more exquisite, illustrate, accomplished, pure, respected, ador'd, observed, precious, real, magnanimous, bounteous: if you have an idle rich cast jerkin, or so, it shall not be cast away, if—

Feli. For flattery.

Oh, how I hate that same Egyptian louse;
A rotten maggot, that lives by stinking filth
Of tainted spirits! Vengeance to such dogs,
That sprout by gnawing senseless carrion!
Enter ALBERTO.

Alb. Gallants, saw you my mistress, the Lady Rossaline?

Foro. My mistress, the Lady Rossaline, left the presence even now.

Cast. My mistress, the Lady Rossaline, withdrew her gracious aspect even now.

Bal. My mistress, the Lady Rossaline, withdrew her gracious aspect even now.

Feli. Well said, Echo.

Alb. My mistress, and his mistress, and your mistress, and the dog's mistress: precious dear heaven, that Alberto lives to have such rivals! Slid, I have been searching every private room, Corner, and secret angle of the court; And yet, and yet, and yet she lives conceal'd. Good, sweet Felice, tell me how to find My bright-faced mistress out.

Feli. Why, man, cry out for lanthorn and candle-light; for 'tis your only way to find your bright flaming wench with your light burning torch; for most commonly these light creatures live in darkness.

Alb. Away, you heretic, you'll be burnt forFeli. Go, you amorous hound, follow the scent of your mistress' shoe; away! [Exit Alb. Foro. Make a fair presence, boys; advance your lights; the princess makes approach.

Bal. And please the gods, now in very good deed, la, you shall see me tickle the measures for the heavens. Do my hangers' show?

Enter PIERO, ANTONIO, MELLIDA, ROSSALINE, GALEATZO, MATZAGENTE, ALBERTO, and FLAVIA. As they enter, FELICE and CASTILIO make a rank for the DUKE to pass through. FOROBOSCO ushers the DUKE to his state; then, whilst PIERO speaketh his first speech, MELLIDA is taken by GALEATZO and MATZAGENTE to dance, they supporting her; ROSSALINE, in like manner, by ALBERTO and BALURDO; FLAVIA by FELICE and CASTILIO. Pie. Beauteous Amazon, sit and seat your thoughts

In the reposure of most soft content.

Sound music there. Nay, daughter, clear your

Mat. Lady, erect your gracious symmetry;
Shine in the sphere of sweet affection:
Your eye is heavy, as the heart of night. ||

Mel. My thoughts are as black as your beard ; my fortunes as ill-proportioned as your legs; and all the powers of my mind as leaden as your wit, and as dusty as your face is swarthy.

Gal. Faith, sweet, I'll lay thee on the lips for that jest.

Mel. I pray thee intrude not on a dead man's right.

Gal. No, but the living's just possession. Thy lips, and love, are mine.

Mel. You ne'er took seizin' on them yet.
Forbear:

There's not a vacant corner of my heart,
But all is fill'd with dead Antonio's loss.
Then urge no more; oh leave to love at all;
'Tis less disgraceful not to mount, than fall.

Mat. Bright and refulgent lady, deign your

ear:

You see this blade,-had it a courtly lip,
It would divulge my valour, plead my love,
Jostle that skipping feeble amorist

Out of your love's seat; I am Matzagente.

Gal. Hark thee, I pray thee taint not thy sweet

ear

With that sot's gabble; by thy beauteous cheek, He is the flagging'st bulrush that e'er droopt With each slight mist of rain. But with pleas'd

eye

Smile on my courtship.

Mel. What said you, sir? Alas! my thought was fix'd

Upon another object. Good, forbear:
I shall but weep. Ay me, what boots a tear!
Come, come, let's dance. Oh music, thou distill'st
More sweetness in us than this jarring world:
Both time and measure from thy strains do'
breathe,

Whilst from the channel of this dirt doth flow
Nothing but timeless grief, unmeasured woe.

Ant. Oh how impatience cramps my cracked veins,

And cruddles thick my blood, with boiling rage!
Oh eyes, why leap you not like thunderbolts,
Or cannon bullets in my rival's face;
Oy me infeliche misero, o lamentevol fato? 3

Alb. What means the lady fall upon the ground?
Ros. Belike the falling sickness.

Ant. I cannot brook this sight, my thoughts grow wild:

Here lies a wretch, on whom heaven never smiled. Ros. What, servant, ne'er a word, and I here,

man?

I would shoot some speech forth, to strike the

time

With pleasing touch of amorous compliment.
Say sweet, what keeps thy mind, what think'st

thou on?

Alb. Nothing.

Ros. What's that nothing?

Alb. A woman's constancy.

Ros. Good, why, would'st thou have us sluts, and never shift the vesture of our thoughts? Away for shame.

Alb. Oh no, th'art too constant to afflict my heart,

Too too firm fixed in unmoved scorn.

1 seizin-possession.

2 leave-cease.

3 This and other passages of the play are 'most wantonly disfigured by the sudden introduction of Italian rhymes, which gives the whole an air of burlesque.' We must leave the reader to make his best of thein.

Ꮓ

Ros. Pish, pish; I fixed in unmoved scorn? Why, I'll love thee to-night.

Alb. But whom to-morrow?

Ros. Faith, as the toy puts me in the head. Bal. An pleased the marble heavens, now would I might be the toy, to put you in the head, kindly to conceit my my my: pray you give in an epithet for love.

Feli. Roaring, roaring.

Bal. Oh love, thou hast murdered me, made me a shadow, an you hear not Balurdo, but Balurdo's ghost.

Ros. Can a ghost speak?

Bal. Scurvily, as I do.
Ros. And walk?

Bal. After their fashion.

Ros. And eat apples?

Bal. In a sort, in their garb.

Feli. Pr'ythee, Flavia, be my mistress.
Fla. Your reason, good Felice?

Feli. Faith, I have nineteen mistresses already, and I not much disdain that thou should'st make up the full score.

Fla. Oh, I hear you make common places of your mistresses, to perform the office of memory by. Pray you, in ancient times were not those satin hose? In good faith, now they are new .dyed, pinked,2 and scoured, they show as well as if they were new.

What, mute, Balurdo?

Feli. Ay, in faith, an 'twere not for printing and painting, my breech and your face would be out of reparation.

Bal. Ay, an faith, an 'twere not for printing and painting, my breech and your face would be out of reparation.

Feli. Good again, Echo.

Fla. Thou art, by nature, too foul to be affected.3

Feli. And thou, by art, too fair to be beloved. By wit's life, most spark spirits, but hard chance. La ty dine.

Pie. Gallants, the night grows old, and downy sleep

Courts us, to entertain his company:

Our tired limbs, bruis'd in the morning fight, Entreat soft rest, and gentle hush'd repose. Fill out Greek wines; prepare fresh cresset light:1 We'll have a banquet: Princes, then good night. | The cornets sound a synnet, and the DUKE goes out in state. As they are going out, ANTONIO stays MELLIDA; the rest exeunt.

Ant. What means these scatter'd looks? Why tremble you?

Why quake your thoughts, in your distracted eyes? Collect your spirits, madam; what do you see? Dost not behold a ghost?

Look, look where he stalks, wrapt up in clouds of grief,

Darting his soul upon thy wond'ring eyes.
Look, he comes towards thee; see, he stretches

out

His wretched arms to girt thy loved waist,
With a most wish'd embrace: seest him not yet?
Nor yet? Ha, Mellida; thou well may'st err:
For look; he walks not like Antonio,-
Like that Antonio that this morning shone

1 toy-whim.

2 pinked-scalloped and otherwise ornamented. 3 affected-loved.

4 cresset light-an open lamp, exhibited on a beacon, carried upon a pole, or otherwise suspended. The etymology is probably croiset, a crucible or open pot, which always contained the light. Colgrave describes it as made of ropes wreathed, pitched, and put into small and open cages of iron.-NAKES.

In glistering habiliments of arms,
To seize his love, spite of her father's spite,-
But like himself, wretched and miserable,
Banish'd, forlorn, despairing, struck quite through,
With sinking grief, rolled up in sevenfold doubles
Of plagues, vanquishable: hark! he speaks to
thee.

Mel. Alas, I cannot hear, nor see him.

Ant. Why? all this night about the room he stalk'd,

And groan'd, and howl'd with raging passion, To view his love (life-blood of all his hopes, Crown of his fortunes) clipt by strangers' arms. Look but behind thee.

Mel. Oh, Antonio; my lord, my love, myAnt. Leave passion, sweet, for time, place, air, and earth,

Are all our foes; fear, and be jealous, fair,
Let's fly.

Mel. Dear heart; ha, whither?

Ant. Oh, 'tis no matter whither, but let's fly. Ha! now I think on't, I have ne'er a home: No father, friend, no country to embrace These wretched limbs: the world, the All that is, Is all my foe: a prince not worth a doit: Only my head is hoised to high rate, Worth twenty thousand double pistolets, To him that can but strike it from these shoulders. But come, sweet creature, thou shalt be my home; My father, country, riches, and my friend: My all, my soul; and thou and I will live: (Let's think like what) and thou and I will live

Like unmatch'd mirrors of calamity.

The jealous ear of night eave-drops our talk. Hold thee, there's a jewel; and look thee, there's a note

That will direct thee when, where, how to fly; Bid me adieu.

Mel. Farewell, bleak misery!

Ant. Stay, sweet, let's kiss before you go!
Mel. Farewell, dear soul!

Ant. Farewell, my life, my heart!

ACT III.

Enter ANDRUGIO in armour, Lucio with a shepherd's gown in his hand, and a Page.

And. Is not yon gleam, the shuddering morn that flakes,

With silver tincture, the east verge of heaven?
Lu. I think it is, so please your excellence.

Pr'ythee observe the custom of the world,
And. Away, I have no excellence to please.
That only flatters greatness, states exalts.
And please my excellence! O Lucio,

Thou hast been ever held respected dear,
Even precious to Andrugio's inmost love.
Good, flatter not. Nay, if thou giv'st not faith
That I am wretched, oh read that, read that!

PIERO SFORZA to the ITALIAN PRINCES, fortune.

Excellent, the just overthrow Andrugio took in the Venetian Gulf, hath so assured the Genoese of the justice of his cause, and the hatefulness of his persen, that they have banished him and all his family; anl for confirmation of their peace with us, have vowed, that if he or his son can be attached,3 to send us both their heads. We therefore, by force of our united league, forbid you to harbour him, or his blood; but if you apprehend his person, we entreat you to send him, or his head, to us. For we vow, by the honour of one

2 hoised-hoisted, raised!