ther wouldst thou make? Go too, thou haft it ad dunghil, at the Finger's ends, as they say.

Hol. Oh, I fmell falfe Latin, dunghil for unguem.

Arm. Artf-man preambula; we will be fingled from the Barbarous. Do you not educate Youth at the Charge-house on the Top of the Mountain.

Hol. Or Mons on the Hill.

Arm. At your fweet Pleasure, for the Mountain.
Hol. I do fans question.

Arm. Sir, it is the King's moft fweet Pleasure and Affection, to congratulate the Princefs at her Pavilion, in the pofteriors of this Day, which the rude Multitude call the Afternoon.

Hol. The Pofterior of the Day, moft generous Sir, is liable, congruent, and meafurable for the Afternoon: The Word is well cull'd, choice, fweet, and apt, I do affure you Sir, I do affure.

Arm. Sir, the King is a noble Gentleman, and my Familiar, I do affure ye, my very good Friend; for what is inward between us, let it paf-I do befeech thee, remember thy Curtefie-I befeech thee apparel thy Head, and among other importunate and most serious Designs, and of great import indeed too- -But let that pafs, for I muft tell thee it will please his Grace (by the World) fometime to lean upon my poor Shoulder, and with his Royal Finger thus dally with my Excrement, with my Muftachio; but, fweet Heart, let that paf. By the World I recount no Fable; fome certain fpecial Honours it pleafeth his Greatnefs to impart to Armado a Soldier, a Man of Travel, that hath feen the World; but let that pa's the very all of all is: But, fweet Heart, I do implore fecretly, that the King would have me present the Princefs (fweet Chuck) with fome delightful Oftentation, or Show, or Pageant, or Antick, or Fire-work. Now understanding that the Curate and your fweet felf are good at fuch Eruptions, and fudden breaking out of Mirth (as it were) I have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your Affiftance.

Hol. Sir, you fhall prefent before her the nine Wor thies. Sir, as concerning fome Entertair'ment of Time, fome Show in the Pofterior of this Day, to be rendred by our Affiftants at the King's Command, and this moft gal

lant,

lant, illuftrate and learned Gentleman, before the Princess: I fay none fo fit as to prefent the nine Worthies.

Nath. Where will you find Men worthy enough to prefent them?

Hol. Jofua, your felf, this gallant Gentleman Judas Machabens, this Swain (because of his great Limb or Joint) fhall pafs Pompey the Great, and the Page Hercules,

C

Arm. Pardon Sir, Error: He is not Quantity enough for that Worthy's Thumb; he is not fo big as the End of his Club.

Hol. Shall I have Audience? He fhall present Hercules in Minority His Enter and Exit shall be ftrangling a Snake; and I will have an Apology for that Purpose.

Moth. An excellent Device: So if any of the Audience hifs, you may cry; Well done, Hercules, now thou crusheft the Snake; that is the way to make an Offence gracious, tho' few have the Grace to do it.

Arm. For the reft of the Worthies?

Hol. I will play three my felf.
Moth. Thrice worthy Gentleman.
Arm. Shall I tell you a thing?
Hol. We attend.

Arm. We will have, if this fadge not, an Antique. Ibefeech you follow.

Hol. Via good-man Dull, thou haft spoken no Word all this while.

Dull. Nor understood none neither, Sir.

Hol. Allons, we will employ thee.

Dull. I'll make one in a Dance, or fo: Or will play on the Taber 10 the Worthies, and let them dance the Hay.

Hol. Moft Dull, honeft Dull, to our Sport away. [Exit.

Enter Princess, and Ladies.

Prin. Sweet Hearts, we fhall be rich e'er we depart,
If Fairings come thus plentifully in.

A Lady wall'd about with Diamonds! look you, what I have
from the King.

Rofa. Madam, came nothing elfe along with that? Prin. Nothing but this? yes, as much Love in Rime, As would be cram'd up in a Sheet of Paper,

Ff3

Writ

Writ on both fides the Leaf, Margent and-all,
That he was fain to feal on Cupid's Name.

Rofa. That was the way to make his God-head wax,
For he hath been five thousand Years a Boy.
Kath. Ay, and a threwd unhappy Gallows too.

Rofa. You'll ne'er be Friends with him, he kill'd your Si fter.

Kath. He made her melancholly, fad and heavy,
And fo fhe died; had he been light like you,
Of fuch a merry, nimble, ftirring Spirit,
She might have been a Grandom e'er the dy'd.
And to may you; for a light Heart lives long.

Rofa. What's your dark Meaning, Mouse, of this light Word ?

Kath. A light Condition, in a Beauty dark. Rofa. We need more Light to find your Meaning out. Kath. You'll marr the Light by taking it in Snuff: Therefore I'll darkly end the Argument.

Rofa. Look what you do, you do it ftill i'th dark. Kath. So do not you, for you are a light Wench. Rofa. Indeed I weigh not you, and therefore light. Kath. You weigh me not, O that's, you care not for me. Rofa. Great Reafon; for paft Care, is ftill paft Cure. Prin. Well handled both; a Set of Wit well play'd. But Rofaline, you have a Favour too? Who fent it? and what

is it?

Rofa. I would

you knew.

And if my Face were but as fair as yours,
My Favour were as great, be witness this.
Nay, I have Verses too, I thank Biron.
The Numbers true, and were the numbring too,
I were the faireft Goddess on the Ground.
I am compar'd to twenty thousand Fairies.
O he hath drawn my Picture in his Letter.
Prin. Any thing like?

Rofa. Much in the Letters, nothing in the Praise.
Prin. Beauteous Ink; a good Conclufion.

Kath. Fair as a Text B in a Copy-Book.

Rofa. Ware Pencils. How? Let me not die your Debter,

My red Dominical, my golden Letter.
O that your Face were full of Ots.

Prin. A Pox of that Jeft, and I befhrew all Shrews:
But Katharine, what was fent to you
From fair Dumain?

Kath. Madam, this Glove.

Prin. Did he not fend you twain?
Kath. Yes, Madam; and moreover,
Some thoufand Verfes of à faithful Lover.
A huge Tranflation of Hypocrifie,
Vildly compil'd, profound Simplicity.

Mar. This, and thefe Pearls to me fent Longavile.
The Letter is too long by half a Mile.

Prin. I think no lefs; Doft thou not with in Heart The Chain were longer, and the Letter fhort?

Mar. Ay, or I would thefe Hands might never part. Prin. We are wife Girls, to mock our Lovers fo. Rofa. They are worfe Fools to purchase mocking so. That fame Biron I'll torture e'er I go. O that I knew he were but in by th' Week, How I would make him fawn, and beg, and feek, And wait the Season, and obferve the Times, And spend his prodigal Wits in bootlefs Rimes, And fhape his Service all to my Behefts, And make him proud to make me proud with Jefts, So pertaunt like would I o'erfway his State, That he fhould be my Fool, and I his Fate.

Prin. None are fo furely caught, when they are catch 'd,
As Wit turn'd Fool; a Folly in Wisdom hatch'd
Hath Wisdom's Warrant, and the help of School,
And Wit's own Grace to grace a learned Fool.

Rofa. The Blood of Youth burns not in fuch Excels.
As Gravities revolt to Wantonnefs.

Marg. Folly in Fools bears not fo ftrange a Note,
As Fool'ry in the Wife, when Wit doth dote:
Since all the Power thereof it doth apply,
To prove by Wit, worth in Simplicity.

Enter Boyet.

Prin. Here comes Boyet, and Mirth in his Face.
Boyet. O,I am ftab'd with Laughter, Where's her Gace?
Prin Thy News, Boyer?

Boyet,

Ff4

Boyet. Prepare, Madam, prepare. Arm Wenches, arm, Incounters mounted are Against your Peace, Love doth approach, difguis'd, Armed in Arguments, you'll be furpriz'd. Mufter your Wits, ftand in your own Defence, Or hide your Heads like Cowards, and fly hence.

Prin. Saint Dennis, to Saint Cupid; What are they
That charge their Breath against us? Say, Scout, fay,
Boyet. Under the cool Shade of a Sycamore,
I thought to close mine Eyes fome half an hour;
When lo to interrupt my purpos'd Reft,
Toward that Shade, I might behold, addrest
The King and his Companions; warily
I ftole into a Neighbour Thicket by,
And over-heard, what you fhall over-hear:
That by and by difguis'd they will be here.
Their Herald is a pretty knavifh Page,
That well by heart hath conn'd his Embaffage.
Action and Accent did they teach him there;
Thus must thou speak, and thus thy Body bear,
And ever and anon they made a doubt,
Prefence Majeftical would put him out:
For, quoth the King, an Angle fhalt thou fee,
Yet fear not thou, but fpeak audaciously.
The Boy reply'd, an Angel is not evil;

I fhould have fear'd her, had she been a Devil.
With that all laugh'd, and clap'd him on the Shoulders,
Making the bold Wag by their Praises bolder.
One rub'd his Elbow thus, and fleer'd, and swore,
A better Speech was never spoke before.
Another with his Finger, and his Thumb,
Cry'd via, we will do't, come what will come.
The third he caper'd and cry'd, All goes well,
The fourth turn'd on the Toe, and down he fell;
With that they all did tumble on the Ground,
With fuch a zealous Laughter, fo profound,
That in this Spleen ridiculous appears,
To check their Folly Paffions, folemn Tears.

Prin. But what, but what, come they to vifit us? Boy. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus, Like Mufcovites, or Ruffians, as I guess.