Sec. That all the world shall wonder.

Spa. A pox on them that envy you!

Sec. How do the beauties, my dainty knave? live, wish, think, and dream, sirrah, ha!

Spa. Fumble, one with another, on the gambos of imagination between their legs; eat they do, and sleep, game, laugh, and lie down, as beauties ought to do; there's all.

Sec. Commend me to my choicest, and tell her, the minute of her appointment shall be waited on; say to her, she shall find me a man at all points.

Enter NITIDO.

Spa. Why, there's another quarrel,—man, once more, in spite of my nose,

Nit. Away, Secco, away! my lord calls, he has a loose hair started from his fellows; a clip of your art is commanded.

Sec. I fly, Nitido; Spadone, remember me.

[Exit. Nit. Trudging between an old mule, and a young calf, my nimble intelligencer? What! thou fatten'st apace on capon still?

Spa. Yes, crimp; 'tis a gallant life to be an old lord's pimp-whiskin: but, beware of the porter's lodge, for carrying tales out of the school.*

Nit. What a terrible sight to a libb'd breech is a sow-gelder!

2 Beware of the porter's lodge, &c.] i. e. of the place where punishment was usually inflicted on refractory servants. See Jonson, vol. vii. p. 434.

Spa. Not so terrible as a cross-tree that never grows, to a wag-halter page.

Nit. Good! witty rascal, thou'rt a Satire, I protest, but that the nymphs3 need not fear the evidence of thy mortality:-go, put on a clean bib, and spin amongst the nuns, sing 'em a bawdy song: all the children thou gett'st, shall be christened in wassel-bowls,+ and turned into a college of men-midwives. Farewell, night-mare!

Spa. Very, very well; if I die in thy debt for this, crack-rope, let me be buried in a coal-sack. I'll fit ye, ape's-face! look for't.

Nit. [Sings.] And still the urchin would, but could not do.

Spa. Mark the end on't, and laugh at last.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Room in the House of LIVIO.

: Enter ROMANELLO and CASTAMELA.

Rom. Tell me you cannot love me.
Cast. You impórtune

Too strict a resolution: as a gentleman

3 But that the nymphs.] i. e. except that, &c. This would have called for no notice, had I not ventured to alter the pointing of the former editions, which deprived the passage of all meaning. Ford plays on the similarity of the words satyr and satire.

+ Shall be christened in wassel-bowls.] i. e. in ale or wine, instead of water. Nitido is still jesting with the incapacity of Spadone.

Of commendable parts, and fair deserts,
In every sweet condition that becomes
A hopeful expectation, I do honour

Th' example of your youth; but, sir, our fortunes,
Concluded on both sides in narrow bands,

Move you to construe gently my forbearance,
In argument of fit consideration.

Rom. Why, Castamela, I have shaped thy vir

tues,

Even from our childish years, into a dowry
Of richer estimation, than thy portion,
Doubled an hundred times, can equal: now
I clearly find, thy current of affection
Labours to fall into the gulf of riot,"
Not the free ocean of a soft content.
You'd marry pomp and plenty : 'tis the idol,
I must confess, that creatures of the time
Bend their devotions to; but I have fashion'd
Thoughts much more excellent of you.
Cast. Enjoy

Your own prosperity; I am resolv'd
Never, by any charge with me, to force
A poverty upon you, want of love.

'Tis rarely cherish'd with the love of want."
I'll not be your undoing.

5 Labours to fall into the gulf of riot.] The old copy has guilt, which the whole context shews to be a misprint.

6

want of love.

'Tis rarely cherish'd with the love of want.] I have adopted the pointing of the old copy, simply because I could not satisfy myself with any new arrangement. It is not easy to guess at the speaker's meaning; she appears to consider poverty and want of love,

Rom. Sure some dotage

Of living stately, richly, lends a cunning
To eloquence. How is this piece of goodness
Changed to ambition! oh, you are most miserable
In your desires! the female curse has caught you.
Cast. Fie! fie! how ill this suits.

Rom. A devil of pride

Ranges in airy thoughts to catch a star,
Whilst you grasp mole-hills.

Cast. Worse and worse, I vow.

Rom. But that some remnant of an honest sense Ebbs a full tide of blood to shame, all women Would prostitute all honour to the luxury Of ease and titles.

Cast. Romanello, know

You have forgot the nobleness of truth,
And fix'd on scandal now.

Rom. A dog, a parrot,

A monkey, a caroch, a garded lackey,
A waiting-woman with her lips seal'd up,
Are pretty toys to please my mistress Wanton!
So is a fiddle too; 'twill make it dance,
Or else be sick and whine.

Cast. This is uncivil;

I am not, sir, your charge.

as synonimous; with a reference, perhaps, to the insinuation of the old proverb, that the latter is a necessary consequence of the former. In the next line, she seems to say-It (love) is rarely cherished by those, who, like Romanello, embrace a voluntary poverty. But this is all conjecture. The reader must decide whether the play on words has led the poet into this perplexed expression, or whether any part of it has been corrupted at the press.

Rom. My grief you are;

For all

my services are lost and ruin'd.

Cast. So is my chief opinion of your worthiness, When such distractions tempt you; you would

prove

A cruel lord, who dare, being yet a servant,
As you profess, to bait my best respects
Of duty to your welfare; 'tis a madness
I have not oft observed. Possess your freedom,
You have no right in me; let this suffice;
I wish your joys much comfort.

Enter LIVIO, richly habited.

Liv. Sister! look ye,

How by a new creation of my tailor's,
I've shook off old mortality; the rags
Of home-spun gentry-prithee, sister, mark it—
Are cast by, and I now appear in fashion
Unto men, and received.-Observe me, sister,
The consequence concerns you.

Cast. True, good brother,

For my

well-doing must consist in yours.

Liv. Here's Romanello, a fine temper'd gallant, Of decent carriage, of indifferent means, Considering that his sister, new hoist up, From a lost merchant's warehouse, to the titles Of a great lord's bed, may supply his wants;— Not sunk in his acquaintance, for a scholar Able enough, and one who may subsist Without the help of friends, provided always, He fly not upon wedlock without certainty