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strappado me, hang me, I'll not stir; poor Folly, honest Folly, jocundary Folly forsake your lordship! no true gentleman hates me; and how many women are given daily to me, (if I would take 'em,) some not far off know. Tailor gone, Spanish fig gone, all gone, but I-
Enter HUMOUR. Hum. My waiters quoited off by you! you flay
them! Whence come these thunderbolts? what furies
Ray. I shall grow old, diseased, and melancholy; For you
have robb’d me both of Youth and Health, And that Delight my Spring bestow'd upon me: But for you two, I should be wondrous good; By you I have been cozen'd, baffled, torn From the embracements of the noblest creature
Hum. Your Spring ?
Ray. Yes, she, even she, only the Spring.
Fol. And April, a whining puppy.
Fol. Indeed May was a sweet creature; and yet a great raiser of Maypoles.
Hum. When will you sing my praises thus ?
Ray. Thy praises,
Ray. Yes, common: I cannot pass through any prince's court, Through any country, camp, town, city, village, But up your name is cried, nay curs’d; “ a ven
geance On this your debauch'd Humour !"
Fol. A vintner spoke those very words, last night, to a company of roaring-boys, that would not pay
Ray. 'Tis a lie;
Fol. Squire! worshipful master Folly.
Folly? Fol. Yes, marry, has he—folly: the courtier's humour is to be brave, and not pay for’t; to be proud, and no man cares for't.
Ray. Brave ladies have their humours.
Fol. Humour, madam! if all are your bastards that are given to humour you, you have a company of as arrant rascals to your children as ever went to the gallows: a collier being drunk jostled a knight into the kennel, and cried, 'twas his humour; the knight broke his coxcomb, and that was his humour.
Ray. And yet you are not common !
Hum. No matter what I am : Rail, curse, be frantic; get you to the tomb Of your rare mistress; dig up your dead Spring, And lie with her, kiss her: me, have
lost. Fol. And I scorn to be found. Ray. Stay; must I lose all comfort ? dearest,
stay ; There's such a deal of magic in those eyes, I'm charm’d to kiss these only.
Fol. Are you so? kiss on; I'll be kissed somewhere, I warrant.
Ray. I will not leave my Folly for a world.
for ten. Ray. Nor thee, my love, for worlds piled upon
worlds. Hum. If ever for the Spring you do but sigh, I take
"If ever for the spring you do but sigh,
I take my bells.] i.e. I fly away, -an allusion to falconry. Before the hawk was thrown off the fist, a light strap of leather, garnished with bells, was buckled round her leg, by which the course of her erratic flight was discovered.
· Fol. And I my hobby-horse :—will you be merry then, and jocund?'
Ray. As merry as the cuckows of the spring.
Hum. I'll be your convoy,
SCENE II.- Near the SUMMER's Court.
Enter RAYBRIGHT and HUMOUR. Ray. I muse, my nimble Folly stays so long. Hum. He's quick enough of foot, and counts, I
swear, That minute cast away, not spent on you.
Ray. His company is music next to your's; Both of you are a consort, and your tunes Lull me asleep; and, when I most am sad, My sorrows vanish from me in soft dreams: But how far must we travel? Is't our motion [That] puts us in this heat, or is the air
* Will you be merry, then, and jocund.] For this last word, the 4to. reads jawsand; perhaps, joysome may be thought nearer the sound of the word, in the old text.
In love with us, it clings with such embraces,
Hum. This shows her Court
Ray. Has she rare buildings?
Hum. Magnificent and curious: every noon
Ray. And shall we have fine sights there?
Ray. And hear
Hum. All the choristers
winds Roar and are mad, and clouds in antick gam
bols Dance o'er our heads, their voices have such
charms, They'll all stand still to listen.
2 But here attain, &c.] For here, the old copy reads her. The passage is imperfect at best; but perhaps the manuscript had, By
i.e. by the aid of Summer. VOL. II.