Kal. Then, briefly; good, resolve me;

Have you a mistress or a wife?

Par. I have neither.

Kal. Nor did you ever love in earnest any Fair lady, whom you wish'd to make your own? Par. Not any truly.

Kal. What your friends or means are

I will not be inquisitive to know,

Nor do I care to hope for. But admit

A dowry were thrown down before your choice,
Of beauty, noble birth, sincere affection,
How gladly would you entertain it? Young man,
I do not tempt you idly.

Par. I shall thank you,

When my unsettled thoughts can make me sensible

Of what 'tis to be happy; for the present

I am your debtor; and, fair gentlewoman,
Pray give me leave as yet to study ignorance,
For my weak brains conceive not what concerns

me.

Another time-(Going:)

Enter THAMASTA.

Tha. Do I break off your parley,

That you are parting? Sure my woman loves you; Can she speak well, Parthenophill?

Par. Yes, madam,

Discreetly chaste she can; she hath much won On my belief, and in few words, but pithy,

Much mov'd my thankfulness. You are her lady,

Your goodness aims, I know, at her preferment; Therefore, I may be bold to make confession

Of truth: if ever I desire to thrive

In woman's favour, Kala is the first
Whom my ambition shall bend to.
Tha. Indeed!

But say, a nobler love should interpose.

Par. Where real worth and constancy first settle A hearty truth, there greatness cannot shake it; Nor shall it mine: yet I am but an infant

In that construction, which must give clear light
To Kala's merit; riper hours hereafter

Must learn me how to grow rich in deserts.
Madam, my duty waits on you.

Tha. Come hither!—

"If ever henceforth I desire to thrive

In woman's favour, Kala is the first

[Exit.

Whom my ambition shall bend to."—"Twas so! Kal. These very words he spake.

Tha. These very words

Curse thee, unfaithful creature, to thy grave.

Thou woo'd'st him for thyself?

Kal. You said I should.

Tha. My name was never mention'd?

Kal. Madam, no:

We were not come to that.

Tha. Not come to that!

Art thou a rival fit to cross my fate?

Now poverty and a dishonest fame,

The waiting-woman's wages, be thy payment,

False, faithless, wanton beast! I'll spoil your

carriage ;+

There's not a page, a groom, nay, not a citizen
That shall be cast [away] upon thee, Kala;
I'll keep thee in my service all thy lifetime,
Without hope of a husband or a suitor.

Kal. I have not verily deserv'd this cruelty. Tha. Parthenophill shall know, if he respect My birth, the danger of a fond' neglect.

[Exit. Kal. Are you so quick? Well, I may chance

to cross

Your peevishness. Now, though I never meant
The young man for myself, yet, if he love me,
I'll have him, or I'll run away with him;
And let her do her worst then! What! we're all
But flesh and blood; the same thing that will do
My lady good, will please her woman too." [Exit.

SCENE II.

An Apartment at the Castle.

Enter CLEOPHILA and TROLLIO.

Cleo. Tread softly, Trollio, my father sleeps still. Trol. Ay, forsooth; but he sleeps like a hare, with his eyes open, and that's no good sign.

+ I'll spoil your carriage!] So the 4to. reads. From the sequel of the speech it appears not improbable that the poet's word was marriage.

Of a fond neglect.] i. e. the danger of slighting the love of a lady of my rank.

Kala bears some resemblance to Valeria, in Shirley's Tragedy of The Cardinal.

Cleo. Sure thou art weary of this sullen living; But I am not; for I take more content

In my obedience here, than all delights
The time presents elsewhere.

Mel. Oh!

Cleo. Dost hear that groan?

Trol. Hear it? I shudder; it was a strong blast, young mistress, able to root up heart, liver, lungs, and all.

Cleo. My much-wrong'd father! let me view his face.

[Draws the Arras, MELEANDER discovered in a chair, sleeping.

Trol. Lady mistress, shall I fetch a barber to steal away his rough beard whilst he sleeps? In his naps he never looks in a glass-and 'tis high time, o' my conscience, for him to be trimmed; he has not been under the shaver's hand almost these four years.

Cleo. Peace, fool!

Trol. I could clip the old ruffian; there's hair enough to stuff all the great cod-pieces in Switzerland. He begins to stir; he stirs. Bless us, how his eyes roll! A good year keep your lordship in your right wits, I beseech ye!

Mel. Cleophila !

Cleo. Sir, Lam here; how do you, sir?

[Aside.

while he sleeps? In his naps, &c.] The 4to. reads, "While he sleeps in his naps ?"-which is not easily understood: unless by naps the facetious Trollio means in his rough state. I believe, however, that the error lies in the pointing.

Trol. Sir, is your stomach up yet? get some warm porridge in your belly; 'tis a very good settle-brain.

Mel. The raven croak'd, and hollow shrieks of owls

Sung dirges at her funeral; I laugh'd

The while, for 'twas no boot to weep. The girl Was fresh and full of youth; but, oh! the cun

ning

Of tyrants, that look big! their very frowns

Doom poor souls guilty ere their cause be heard.— Good! what art thou? and thou?

Cleo. I am Cleophila,

Your woeful daughter.

Trol. I am Trollio,

Your honest implement.

Mel. I know you both. 'Las, why d'ye use me thus?

Thy sister, my Eroclea, was so gentle,

That turtles in their down, do feed more gall, Than her spleen mix'd with:-yet, when winds and storm

Drive dirt and dust on banks of spotless snow,
The purest whiteness is no such defence
Against the sullying foulness of that fury.
So raved Agenor, that great man, mischief
Against the girl-'twas a politic trick!
We were too old in honour.-I am lean,
And fall'n away extremely; most assuredly
I have not dined these three days.