LD. EUST. I fhall not come to you, to heal the wound : your medicines are too rough and coarse for me. FRAM. The foft poifon of flattery, might, perhaps, please you better. LD. EUST. Your confcience may, probably, have as much need of palliatives, as mine, Mr. Frampton, as I am pretty well convinced, that your courfe of life, has not been more regular than my own. FRAM. With true contrition, my lord, I confefs part of your farcafm, to be juft. Pleasure was the object of my purfuit, and pleasure I obtained, at the expence, both of health, and fortune: but yet, my lord, I broke not in upon the peace of others; the laws of hofpitality, I never violated; nor did I ever feek to injure, or feduce, the wife or daughter of my friend. LD. EUST. I care not what you did; give me the letters. FRAM. I have no right to keep, and therefore shall furrender them, though with the utmost reluctance; but, by our former friendship, I intreat you not to open them. LD. EUST. That you have forfeited. FRAM. Since it is not in my power to prevent your com. mitting an error, which you ought, for ever, to repent of, I will not be a witness of it. There are the letters. LD. EUST. You may, perhaps, have cause to repent your present conduct, Mr. Frampton, as much as I do our past attachment. FRAM. Rather than hold your friendship upon fuch terms, I refign it for ever. Farewel, my lord. Re-enter FRAMPTON. FRAM. Ill treated as I have been, my lord, I find it impoffible to leave you furrounded by difficulties. LD. EUST. That fentiment fhould have operated fooner, Mr. Mr. Frampton. Recollection is feldom of ufe to our friends, though it may fometimes be serviceable to ourselves. FRAM. Take advantage of your own expreffion, my lord, and recollect yourself. Born and educated as I have been, a gentleman, how have you injured both yourself and me, by admitting and uniting in the fame confidence, your rafcally fervant! LD. EUST. The exigency of my fituation is a fufficient excuse to myself, and ought to have been fo to the man who called himself my friend. FRAM. Have a care, my lord, of uttering the leaft doubt upon that fubject; for could I think you once mean enough to suspect the fincerity of my attachment to you, it must vanish at that inftant. LD. EUST. The proofs of your regard have been rather painful of late, Mr. Frampton. FRAM. When I fee my friend upon the verge of a precipice, is that a time for compliment? Shall I not rudely rush forward, and drag him from it? Juft in that state you are at present, and I will strive to fave you. Virtue may languish in a noble heart, and fuffer her rival, vice, to ufurp her power; but baseness must not enter, or she flies for ever. The man who has forfeited his own efteem, thinks all the world has the fame consciousness, and therefore is what he deferves to be, a wretch. LD. EUST. Oh, Frampton! you have lodged a dagger' in my heart. FRAM. No, my dear Euftace, I have faved you from one, from your own reproaches, by preventing your being guilty of a meannefs, which you could never have forgiven yourself. Lo. EUST. Can you forgive me, and be still my friend? FRAM. Q 2 FRAM. As firmly as I have ever been, my lord.But let us, at present, haften to get rid of the mean businefs we are engaged in, and forward the letters we have no right to detain. Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, DUKE. N Hath not old custom made this life more fweet Than that of painted pomp? are not these woods More free from peril, than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The feafon's difference; as the icy phang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I fhrink with cold, I fmile, and fay, This is no flattery; thefe are counsellors, That feelingly perfuade me what I am. Sweet are the uses of adverfity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head: -Come, fhall we go, and kill us venifon! And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this defert city, Should, in their own confines, with forked heads LORD. Indeed, my Lord, The The melancholy Jaques grieves at that; And in that kind fwears you do more ufurp Than doth your brother, that hath banish'd you. Under an oak, whofe antique root peeps out DUKE. But what faid Jaques? LORD. O yes, into a thousand fimiles, Full of the pafture, jumps along by him, 'Tis just the fashion; wherefore do you look Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there? DUKE. And did you leave him in this contemplation? LORD. We did, my Lord, weeping and commenting Upon the fobbing deer. DUKE. Show me the place; I love to cope him in these fullen fits, LORD. I'll bring you to him ftraight. SHAKESPEAR. CHA P. X. DUKE AND JA QUE S. HY, how now, Monfieur, what a life is DUXE. WH this, friend must woo your company? What? you look merrily. JAQ A fool, a fool; -I met a fool i' th' foreft, A motley fool; a miferable varlet ! As I do live by food, I met a fool, Who laid him down and bask'd him in the fun, In good fet terms, and yet a motley fool. Good morrow, fool, quoth I; No, Sir, quoth he, And |