liberal and uncommon; my spouse and myself, with our posterity, shall prostitute our services to your bounties:-shall's not, duckling? Mor. Yes, honeysuckle; and do as much for them one day, if things stand right as they should stand. Bill, pigeon, do; thou'st be my cat-a-mountain, and I thy sweet-briar, honey. We'll lead you to kind examples, pretty ones, believe it; and you shall find us, one in one, whilst hearts do last. Sec. Ever mine own, and ever. Spa. Well said, old touch-hole. Liv. All happiness, all joy! Troy. A plenteous issue, A fruitful womb!-thou hast a blessing, Secco. Mor. Indeed he has, sir, if you know all, as I conceive you know enough, if not the whole; for you have, I may say, tried me to the quick, through and through, and most of my carriage, from time to time. Spa. 'Twould wind-break a mule, or a ringed mare, to vie burthens with her. [Aside. Mor. What's that you mumble, gelding, hey? Spa. Nothing, forsooth, but that you are a bouncing couple well met, and 'twere pity to part you, though you hung together in a smoky chim ney. Mor. "Twere e'en pity, indeed, Spadone; nay, thou hast a foolish loving nature of thine own, and wishest well to plain dealings, o' my con science. Spa. Thank your brideship—your bawdship. [Aside. Flo. Our sister is not merry. Clar. Sadness cannot Become a bridal harmony. Sil. At a wedding, Free spirits are required. Troy. You should dispense With serious thoughts now, lady. Mor. Well said, gentlefolks. Liv. Fie, Castamela, fie! All. A dance, a dance! Troy. By any means, the day is not complete else. Cast. Indeed, I'll be excused. Troy. By no means, lady. Sec. We all are suitors. Cast. With your pardons, spare me For this time, grant me licence to look on. [Troy.] Command your pleasures, lady.-Every one hand Your partner :-nay, Spadone must make one; These merriments are free. Spa. With all my heart; I'm sure I am not the heaviest in the company. Strike up for the honour of the bride and bridegroom. [Music. A DANCE. Troy. So, so, here's art in motion! On all parts, You have bestirr'd you nimbly. [Troy.] Command your pleasures, lady.] The 4to gives this as a continuation of Castamela's speech. It evidently belongs to Troylo. Mor. I could dance now, E'en till I dropt again; but want of practice Sec. Light as a feather. Spa. Sure you are not without a stick of liquorice in your pocket, forsooth. You have, I believe, stout lungs of your own, you swim about so roundly without rubs; 'tis a tickling sight to still. young Enter NITIDO. be Nit. Madam Morosa! Mor. Child. Nit. To you in secret. [Takes her aside. Spa. That ear-wig scatters the troop now; I'll go near to fit him. Liv. My lord, upon my life Troy. Then we must sever. Mor. Ladies and gentlemen, your ears. [Whispers them. Spa. Oh, 'twas ever a wanton monkey—he will wriggle into a starting-hole so cleanly—an it had been on my wedding-day, I know what I know. Sec. Say'st so, Spadone? Spa. Nothing, nothing; I prate sometimes beside the purpose-whoreson, lecherous weazle! Sec. Look, look, look, how officious the little knave is!-but Spa. Why, there's the business; buts on one's forehead are but scurvy buts. Mor. Spadone, discharge the fiddlers instantly. Spa. Yes, I know my postures-oh monstrous, buts! [Exit, with the Musicians. Mor. [to Sec.] Attend within, sweeting;-your pardons, gentlemen. To your recreations, dear virgins! Page, have a care. Nit. My duty, reverend madam. Cast. Brother. Liv. Suddenly I shall return; now for a round temptation.[Aside. [Exeunt severally, MOR. stays CAST. Mor. One gentle word in private with your ladyship; I shall not hold you long. Cast. What means this huddle Of flying several ways thus? who has frighted them? They live not at devotion here, or pension! Pray quit me of distrust. Mor. May it please your goodness, You'll find him even in every point as honourable, As flesh and blood can vouch him. Cast. Ha! him? whom? What him? Mor. He will not press beyond his bounds; He will but chat and toy, and feel your Cast. Guard me A powerful Genius! feel Mor. Your hands to kiss them, Your fair, pure, white hands; what strange business is it? These melting twins of ivory, but softer Than down of turtles, shall but feed the appetiteCast. A rape upon my ears! Mor. The appetite Of his poor ravish'd eye; should he swell higher In his desires, and soar upon ambition Of rising in humility, by degrees; Perhaps he might crave leave to clap Cast. Fond woman, In thy grave sinful! Mor. Clap or pat the dimples, Where love's tomb stands erected on your cheeks. Cast. Lordship! Stead me, my modest anger!-'tis belike then, Some gallant youth, and fiery? Mor. No, no, 'deed, la! A very grave, stale bachelor, my dainty one, There's the conceit; he's none of your hot rovers, Who ruffle at first dash, and so disfigure Your dresses, and your sets of blush at once: He's wise in years, and of a temperate warmth, |