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Fol. Hey-hoes! a god of winds: there's at least four-and-twenty of them imprisoned in my belly; if I sigh not forth some of them, the rest will break out at the back-door; and how sweet the music of their roaring will be, let an Irishman judge.

Ray. He is a songster too.

Fol. A very foolish one; my music is natural, and came by inheritance: my father was a French nightingale, and my mother an English wagtail; I was born a cuckoo in the spring, and lost my voice in summer, with laying my eggs in a sparrow's nest; but I'll venture for one :-fill my dishevery one take his own, and, when I hold up my finger, off with it, Aut. Begin.

Folly sings.
Cast away care; he that loves sorrow
Lengthens not a day, nor can buy to-morrow:
Money is trash; and he that will spend it,
Let him drink merrily, Fortune will send it.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, Oh, ho!

Play it off stifly, we may not part so. Chor. Merrily, &c.

[Here, and at the conclusion of every

stanza, they drink.
Wine is a charm, it heats the blood too,
Cowards it will arm, if the wine be good too;
Quickens the wit, and makes the back able,
Scorns to submit to the watch or constable.

Merrily, fc.

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Pots fly about, give us more liquor,
Brothers of a rout, our brains will flow quicker ;
Empty the cask; score up, we care not ;
Fill all the pots again, drink on, and spare not.

Merrily, fc. Now, have I more air than ten musicians; besides there is a whirlwind in my brains, I could both caper and turn round.

Aut. Oh, a dance by all means ! Now cease your healths, and in an active motion Bestir

ye nimbly, to beguile the hours. Fol. I am for you in that too; 'twill jog down

. the lees of these rouses into a freer passage ; but take heed of sure footing, 'tis a slippery season : many men fall by rising, and many women are raised by falling.

Aut. How likes our friend this pastime ?

Ray. Above utterance.
Oh, how have I, in ignorance and dulness,
Run through the progress of so many minutes,
Accusing him, who was my life's first author,
Of slackness and neglect, whilst I have dreamt
The folly of my days in vain expense
Of useless taste and pleasure! Pray, my lord,
Let one health pass about, whilst I bethink me
What course I am to take, for being denizen
In your unlimited courtesies.

Aut. Devise a round; You have your liberty.

2 Devise a round.] i. e, a health to in short; which Raybright immediately does.

pass round


name a toast,

Ray. A health to Autumn's self!
And here let time hold still his restless glass,
That not another golden sand may fall
To measure how it passeth.

[They drink. Aut. Continue here with me, and by thy pre

sence Create me favourite to thy fair progenitor, And be mine heir.

Ray. I want words to express My thankfulness.

Aut. Whate'er the wanton Spring, When she doth diaper the ground with beauties, Toils for, comés home to Autumn; Summer

sweats, Either in pasturing her furlongs, reaping The crop of bread, ripening the fruits for food, [While] Autumn's garners house them, Autumn's

Feed on them; I alone in every land,
Traffic my useful merchandize; gold and jewels,
Lordly possessions, are for my commodities
Mortgaged and lost: I sit chief moderator
Between the cheek-parch'd Summer, and th' ex-

Of Winter's tedious frost; nay, in myself
I do contain another teeming Spring.
Surety of health, prosperity of life
Belongs to Autumn; if thou then canst hope
To inherit immortality in frailty,
Live here till time be spent, yet be not old.

Ray. Under the Sun, you are the year's great

emperor. Aut. On now, to new variety of feasts ; Princely contents are fit for princely guests.

Ray. My lord, I'll follow. [Flourish. Exit Aut. Sure, I am not well.

Fol. Surely I am half drunk, or monstrously mistaken : you mean to stay here, belike? Ray. Whither should I


else? Fol. Nay, if you will kill yourself in your own

. defence, I'll not be of your jury.

Re-enter Humour. Hum. You have had precious pleasures, choice

of drunkenness; Will you

be gone? Ray. I feel a war within me, And every doubt that resolution kills Springs up a greater: In the year's revolution, There cannot be a season more delicious, When Plenty, Summer's daughter, empties daily Her cornucopia, fill’d with choicest viands.

Fol. Plenty's horn is always full in the city. Ray. When temperate heat offends not with

extremes, When day and night have their distinguishment With a more equal measure;

Hum. Ha! in contemplation?

Fol. Troubling himself with this windy-guts, this belly-aching Autumn, this Apple John Kent, and warden of Fruiterers' hall.

Ray. When the bright Sun, with kindly distant

beams Gilds ripen'd fruit;

Hum. And what fine meditation Transports you thus? You study some encomium Upon the beauty of the garden's queen ; You'd make the paleness to supply the vacancy Of Cynthia's dark defect.

Fol. Madam, let but a green-sickness chambermaid be thoroughly steeled, if she get not a better colour in one month, I'll be forfeited to Autumn for ever, and fruit-eat my flesh into a consumption, Hum. Come, Raybright; whatsoe'er sugges

tions Have won on thy apt weakness, leave these

And hollow-sounding pleasures, that include
Only a windy substance of delight,
Which every motion alters into air;
I'll stay no longer here.

Ray. I must.

Hum. You shall not;
These are adulterate mixtures of vain follies :
I'll bring thee
Into the court of Winter; there thy food
Shall not be sickly fruits, but healthful broths,
Strong meat and dainty.

Fol. Pork, beef, mutton, very sweet mutton, veal, venison, capon, fine fat capon, partridge, snite, plover, larks, teal, admirable teal, my lorda,

Hum. Mistery there, like to another nature,

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