WHAT you WILL.  
By john Marston.  
Imprinted at London by G. Eld for Thomas Thorpe. 1607.   

What you will.  

INDUCTION.  Before the Music sounds for the Act: Enter Atticus, Doricus, & Phylomuse, they sit a good while on the Stage before the Candles are lighted, talking together, & on sudden Doricus speaks. Enter Tireman with lights. Dor. 
O Fie some lights, sirs fie, let there be no deeds of darkness done among us.— I so, so, pree tire-man set signior Snuff a fire, he's a choleric Gentleman, he will take Pepper in the nose instantly, fear not, fore Heaven I wonder they tolerate him so near the Stage.  Phy. 
Faith Doricus, thy brain boil, keel it, keel it, or all the fat's in the fire: in the name of Phoebus, what merry Genius haunts thee today, thy lips play with Feathers.  Dor. 
Troth they should pick straws before they should be idle,  Atti, 
But why, but why dost thou wonder they dare suffer Snuff so near the Stage?  Dor. 
O well recalled, marry Sir signior Snuff, monsieur Mew, and Cavaliero Blirt, are three of the most to be feared Auditors that ever—  Phy. 
Pish for shame, stint thy idle chat.  Dor. 
Nay dream whatsoever your fantasy swims on Phylomuse, I protest in the love you have procured me to bear your friend the Author, I am vehemently fearful, this threefold halter of contempt that chokes the breath of wit, these aforesaid tria sunt omnia, Knights of the Meaw will sit heavy on the skirts of his Scenes, if—  Phy. 
If what? believe it Doricus his spirit,  
Is higher blooded than to quake and pant  
At the report of Skoffe's Artillery;  
Shall he be crestfallen, if some looser brain,  
In flux of wit uncivilly befilth  
His slight composures? shall his bosom faint  
If drunken Censure belch out sour breath,  
From Hatreds surfeit on his labour's front?  
Nay say some half a dozen rancorous breasts  
Should plant themselves on purpose to discharge  
Impostumed malice on his latest Scene  
Shall his resolve be struck through with the blirt,  
Of a goose breath? What imperfect borne?  
What short lived Meteor? what cold hearted Snow  
Would melt in dolour? cloud his mudded eyes  
Sink down his jaws, if that some juiceless husk  
Some boundless ignorance should on sudden shoot  
His gross knobbed burbolt, with that's not so good,  
Mew, blirt, ha, ha, light Chaffy stuff?  
Why gentle spirits what loose waving fane?  
What any thing would thus be screwed about  
With each slight touch of odd Phantasmatas?  
No let the feeble palsied  joints,  
Lean on opinions crutches, let the—  Dor. 
Nay, nay, nay, heaven's my hope, I cannot smooth this strain,  
wits death I cannot, what a leprous humour  
Breaks from rank swelling of these bubbling wits?  
Now out upon'nt: I wonder what tight brain:  
Wrung in this custom to maintain Contempt  
'gainst common Censure: to give stiff counterbuffs  
To crack rude scorn even on the very face  
Of better audience. 'slight be't not odious,  
Why hark you honest, honest Phylomuse  
(You that endeavour to endear our thoughts,  
To the composers spirit) hold this firm:  
Music and Poetry were first approved  
By common sense; and that which pleased most,  
Held most allowed pass: not rules of Art  
Were shaped to pleasure, not pleasure to your rules,  
Think you if that his scenes took stamp in mint  
Of three or four deemed most judicious,  
It must enforce the world to currant them  
That you must spit defiance on dislike?  
Now as I love the light were I to pass  
Through public verdict, I should fear my form  
lest ought I offered were unsquared or warped,  
"The more we know, the more we know we want  
" What Bayard boulder then the ignorant?  
"Believe me Phylomuse: i'faith thou must  
" The best best seal of wit, is wit's distrust.  Phy. 
Nay gentle Doricus.  Dor. 
I'll here no more of him, nay and your friend the Author, the composer: the What you will: seems so fair in his own glass, so straight in his own measure that he talks once of squinting Critics, drunken Censure, splay-footed Opinion, juiceless husks, I ha' done with him, I ha' done with him.  Phy. 
Pew nay then—  Dor. 
As if any such unsanctified stuff could find a being 'mong these ingenuous breasts.  Atti 
Come, let pass, let pass, let's see what stuff must clothe our ears: what's the plays name?  Phy. 
What you will.  Dor. 
1st Comedy, Tragedy, Pastoral, Moral, Nocturnal or History.  Phy. 
Faith perfectly neither, but even What you will, a slight toy, lightly composed, to swiftly finished, ill plotted, worse written, I fear me worst acted, and indeed What you will.  Dor. 
Why I like this vain well now.  At. 
Come, we strain the spectator's patience in delaying their expected delights. Let's place ourselves within the Curtains, for good faith the Stage is so very little we shall wrong the general eye else very much.  Phy. 
If you'll stay but a little I'll accompany you, I have engaged myself to the Author to give a kind of inductive speech to his Comedy.  At. 
Away: you neglect yourself, a gentleman—  Phy. 
Tut I have vowed it, I am double charged, go of as't 'twill, I'll set fire to it.  Dor. 
I'll not stand it, may chance recoil, and be not stuffed with saltpetre, well mark the report, mark the report.  Phy. 
Nay pree stay, slid the female presence; the Genteletza; the women will put me out.  Dor. 
And they strive to put thee out, do thou endeavour to put them.  Atti. 
In good faith if they put thee out of countenance; put thou them out of patience; & hew their ears with hacking imperfect utterance.  Dor. 
Go stand to it, show thyself a tale man of thy tongue, make an honest leg, put off thy Cap with discreet carriage: and so we leave thee to the kind Gentlemen, and most respected Auditors. Exeunt, remanet tantum Phylomusus.   

prologus.  
NOR labours he the favour of the rude,  
Nor offers sops unto the Stygian Dog  
To force a silence in his viperous tongues:  
Nor cares he to insinuate the grace,  
Of loathed detraction, nor pursues the love  
Of the nice Critics of this squeamish age,  
Nor strives he to bear up with every sail  
Of floating Censure: nor once dreads or cares  
What envious hand his guiltless Muse hath struck,  
, ,Sweet breath from tainted stomachs who can suck:  
But to the fair proportioned loves of wit,  
To the just scale of even poised thoughts:  
To those that know the pangs of bringing forth  
A perfect feature: to their gentle minds,  
That can as soon slight of, as find a blemish,  
To those as humbly low as to their feet  
I am obliged to bend: to those his Muse,  
Makes solemn honour, for their wished delight:  
He vows industrious sweat shall pale his cheek,  
But he'll gloze up sleek objects for their eyes:  
For those he is ashamed, his best's too bad,  
A silly subject too too simply clad  
Is all his present, all his ready pay,  
For many many debts. Give further day  
I'll give a Proverb, Sufferance giveth ease:  
So you may once be paid, we once may please. Exit.   

ACT. 1.  

SCAE. 1.  Enter Quadratus, Phylus following him with a lute, a Page going before Quadratus with a torch. Phy. 
O O I beseech you Sir reclaim his wits,  
My master's mad, stark mad, alas for love,  Qua. 
For love? nay and he be not mad for hate,  
'tis amiable fortune; I tell thee youth  
Right rare and geason: strange? mad for love,  
O show me him I'll give him reasons straight.  
So forcible so all invincible,  
That it shall drag love out: run mad for love?  
What mortally exsistes, on which our hearts  
Should be enamoured with such passion?  
For love? come Phylus; come I'll hang his fate,  
In steed of love I'll make him mad for hate.  
But troth say what strains his madness of?  Phy. 
Fantastical.  Qua. 
Immure him, sconce him, barricado him in't,  
Fantastical mad, thrice blessed heart;  
Why hark good Phylus: (o that thy narrow sense,  
Could but contain me now) all that exists,  
Takes valuation from opinion:  
A giddy minion now: pish, thy taste is dull,  
And canst not relish me, come where's jacomo.  Enter jacomo unbraced and careless dressed Phy. 
Look where he comes: O map of boundless woe!  jaco. 
You gleam is day, darkness, sleep and fear,  
Dreams, and the ugly visions of the night  
Are beat to hell by the bright palm of light,  
Now roams the swain and whistles up the morn:  
Deep Silence breaks: all things start up with light,  
Only my heart, that endless night and day,  
Lies bedrid, crippled by coy Lucea,  Qua. 
There's a strain law.  
Nay now I see he's mad most palpable,  
He speaks like a player, hah! poetical.  jaco. 
The wanton spring lies dallying with the earth,  
And pours fresh blood in her decayed veins,  
Look how the new sapped branches are in child  
With tender infants, how the Sun draws out,  
And shapes their moisture into thousand forms  
Of sprouting buds, all things that show or breath,  
Are now instaured, saving my wretched breast,  
That is eternally congealed with Ice  
Of freeze, despair. O Celia, coy, to nice.  Qua. 
Still sans question mad?  jaco. 
O where doth Piety and Pity rest?  Qua. 
Fetch cords he's irrecoverable, mad, rank mad,  
He calls for strange Chimaeras, fictions  
That have no being since the curse of death  
Was thrown on man: Pity and Piety,  
who'll deign converse with them? alas vain head,  
Pity and Piety are long since dead.  jaco. 
Ruin to Chance, and all that strive to stand,  
Like swollen Colosses on her tottering Base.  
Fortune is blind—  Qua. 
You lie, you lie,  
None but a mad man would term Fortune blind,  
How can she see to wound desert so right?  
just in the speeding place: to girt lewd brows  
With honoured wreath; ha? Fortune blind? away,  
How can she hoodwinked then so rightly see,  
To starve rich worth and glut iniquity?  jaco. 
O Love!  Qua. 
Love? hang love,  
It is the abject outcast of the world,  
Hate all things, hate the world, thyself, all men,  
Hate knowledge, strive not to be overwise,  
, It drew destruction into Paradise,  
Hate Honour, Virtue, they are baits,  
That 'tice men's hopes to sadder fates,  
Hate beauty, every ballad-monger,  
Can cry his idle foppish humour  
Hate riches, wealths a flattering Jack,  
adores to face, mews hind thy back.  
He that is poor is firmly sped,  
He never shall be flattered,  
All things are error, dirt and nothing,  
Or pant with want or gorged to loathing,  
Love only hate, affect no higher  
Than praise of heaven, wine, a fire.  
Suck up thy days in silent breath,  
When their snuffs out come signior death.  
Now Sir adieu run mad and twilt,  
The worst is this my rhymes but spilled.  Iaco 
Thy rhymes are spilled who would not run rank mad,  
To see a wandering French man rival, nay  
Outstrip my suit. He kissed my Celia's cheek,  Qua. 
Why man I saw my dog even kiss thy Celia's lips,  jaco. 
Tomorrow morn they go to wed,  Qua. 
Well then I know.  
Whether tomorrow night they go.  jaco. 
Say quick.  Qua 
To bed  jaco. 
I will invoke the triple Hecate,  
Make charms as potent as the breath of Fate,  
But I'll confound the match,  Qua 
Nay then good day,  
And you be conjuring once I'll slink away, Exit Quadratus.  jaco. 
Boy could not Orpheus make the stones to dance?  Phy, 
Yes Sir.  jaco. 
by'r Lady a sweet touch: did he not bring Eurydice out of hell with his lute.  Phy 
So they say Sir,  jaco. 
And thou chanced bring Celia's head out of the window with thy Lute, well hazard thy breath: look Sir hears a ditty.  

'tis foully writ slight wit crossed here and there,  
But where thou findst a blot, their fall a tear.   

The Song.  
Fie peace, peace, peace, it hath no passion in't.  
O melt thy breath in fluent softer tunes  
That every note may seem to trickle down  
Like sad distilling tears and make: O God  
That I were but a Poet now t'express my thoughts  
Or a physician but to sing my thoughts  
Or any thing but what I am, sing't over once more  
My griefs a boundless sea that hath no shore.   He Sings and is answered, from above a Willow garland is fling down and the song ceaseth. 
Is this my favour? am I crowned with scorn?  
Then thus I manumit my slaved condition.  
Celia but hear me execrate thy love.  
By heaven that once was conscious of my love  
By all that is that knows my all was thine  
I will pursue with detestation.  
Thawart without stretched vehemence of hate  
Thy wished Hymen: I will craze my brain  
But all discover all: thy hopes unite  
What rage so violent as love turned spite?  Enter Randolfo and Andrea with a supplication reading. Ra. 
Humbly complaining kissing the hands of your excellence your poor orators Randolfo and Andrea beseecheth forbidding of the dishonoured match of their Niece Celia Widow to their Brother— O 'twill do, 'twill do, it can not choose but do.  And 
What should one say what should one do now; umph  
If she do match with you same wandering knight  
she's but undone, her estimation, wealth—  jaco. 
Nay sir her estimations mounted up  
She shall be Ladied and sweet Madamed now.  Ran. 
Be Ladied ha, ha, O could she but recall  
The honoured Port of her deceased love;  
But think whose wife she was, God wot no knights  
But one (that title of) was even a Prince  
A Sultan Soliman: thrice was he made  
In dangerous arms Venice providetore.  An. 
He was a Merchant, but so bounteous  
Valiant, wise, learned, all so absolute  
That naughts, was valued praiseful excellent  
But in it was he most praiseful excellent.  jaco. 
O I shall near forget how he went clothed  
He would maintain't a base ill used fashion  
To bind a Merchant to the sullen habit  
Of precise black, chiefly in Venice state.  
Where merchants guilt the top  
And therefore should you have him pass the bridge  
Up the Rialto like a soldier  
(As still he stood a Potestate at sea)  Ran. 
In a black beaver felt, ash colour plain  
A Florentine cloth of silver jerkin, sleeves  
White satin cut on tinsel, then long stock.  jaco. 
French pains embroidered, goldsmith's work, O God!  
methinks I see him now how he would walk:  
With what a jolly presence he would pace  
Round the Rialto. Well he's soon forgot  
A straggling sir in his rich bed must sleep  
Which if I can not cross, I'll curse and weep.  
Shall I be plain as Truth, I love your Sister  
My education birth and wealth deserves her  
I have no cross, no rub to stop my suit  
But lavardur's a knight, that strikes all mute.  An. 
I there's the devil, she must be Ladied now.  jaco. 
O ill nursed custom no sooner is the wealthy Merchant dead  
His wife left great in fair possessions  
But giddy rumor grasps it twixt his teeth  
And shakes it 'bout our ears. Then thither flock  
A rout of crazed fortunes whose cracked states  
Gape to be soldered up by the rich mass  
Of the deceased labores, and now and then  
The troop of I beseech and I protest  
And believe it sweet, is mixed with too or three  
Hopeful, well stocked, neat clothed Citizens  Ran. 
But as we see the son of a Divine  
Seldom proves Preacher, or a lawyers son  
Rarely a pleader, (for they strive to Run  
A various fortune from their Ancestors)  
So 'tis right geason for the merchants widow,  
To be the Citizens loved second spouse.  jaco. 
Variety of objects please us still  
One dish though near so cooked doth quickly fill.  
When diverse cates the palates sense delight  
And with fresh fast creates new appetite  
Therefore my widow she cashiers the blacks  
For swears turns of the furred-gowns, and surveys  
The bead-roll of her suitors thinks and thinks,  
And straight her questing thoughts springs up a knight,  
Have after then a main the game's a foot  
The match clapped up, tut 'tis the knight must do't.  Ran. 
Then must my pretty peat be fanned and Coached.  Iaco 
Muffed Masked and Ladied, with my more than most sweet Madam,  
But how long doth this perfume of sweet Madam last?  
Faith 'tis but a wash sent. My Riotous sir  
Begins to crack jests on his Lady's front,  
Touches her new stamped gentry, takes a glut  
Keeps out, abandons home, and spends and spends  
Till stock be melted, than sir takes up here  
Takes up there, till nowhere ought is left.  
Then for the Low-countries, hay for the French  
And so (to make up rhyme) god night sweet wench.  Ran. 
By blessedness we'll stop this fatal lot.  jaco. 
But how: but how?  Ran. 
Why stay let's think a plot.  An. 
Was not Albano Beletzo honourable rich?  Ran. 
Not peered in Venice, for birth, fortune love.  An. 
'tis scarce three months since fortune gave him dead.  Ran. 
In the black fight in the Venetian gulf.  An. 
You hold a truth.  Ran. 
Now what a giglet is this Celia?  An. 
To match so sudden so unworthily?  Ran. 
Why she might have—  An. 
Who might not Celia have?  
The passionate enamoured jacomo.  jaco. 
The passionate enamoured jacomo.  An. 
Of honoured lineage, and not meanly rich.  Ran. 
The sprightful Piso, the great Florentine,  
Aurelius Tuber.  And. 
And to leave these all,  
And wed a wandering Knight Sir Laverdure,  
A God knows what?  Ran. 
Brother she shall not, shall our blood be mongreled with the corruption of a straggling French?  And. 
Saint Mark she shall not,  jaco. 
She shall not fathers by; our brother souls.  Ran. 
Good day.  jaco. 
Wish me good day? it stands in idle stead,  
My Celia's lost, all my good days are dead.  The Cornets sound a flourish. 
Hark Lorenzo Celso the loose Venice Duke,  
Is going to bed, 'tis now a forward morn  
'fore he take rest. O strange transformed sight,  
When Princes make night day the day there night.  And 
Come we'll petition him,  jaco. 
Away away,  
He scorns all plaints makes jest of serious suit.  Ran. 
Fall out as't 'twill I am resolved to do't.  The Cornets sound. Enter the Duke coupled with a Lady, two couples more with them, the men having tobacco pipes in their hands, the women sit, they dance a round. The Petition is delivered up by Randolfo, the Duke lights his tobacco pipe with it and goes out dancing. Ran. 
Saint Mark Saint Mark.  jaco. 
Did not I tell you, lose no more rich time,  
What can one get but mire from a swine?  And. 
Let's work a cross, we'll fame it all about  
The French man's gelded.  Ran. 
O that's absolute.  jaco. 
Fie on't away, she knows to well 'tis false,  
I fear it to well. No no I have't will strongly do't,  
Who knows Francisco Soranza?  Ran. 
Pish, pish, why what of him?  jaco. 
Is he not wondrous like your decea'sd kinsman Albano.  And. 
Exceedingly the strangest nearly like  
In voice, in gesture face in—  Ran. 
Nay he hath Albanos imperfection too,  
And stuts when he is vehemently moved.  jaco. 
Observe me then, him would I have disguised,  
Most perfect like Albano: giving out,  
Albano saved by swimming (as in faith  
'Tis known he swum most strangely) rumor him,  
This morn arrived in Venice, here to lurk  
As having heard the forward Nuptials,  
T'observe his wife's most infamous lewd haste  
And to revenge—  Ran. 
I have't, I have't, I have't, 'twill be invincible.  jaco. 
By this means now some little time we catch,  
For better hopes at least disturb the match.  And. 
I'll to Francisco.  Ran. 
Brother Adrian  
You have our brother's picture, shape him to it.  And. 
Precise in each but Tassel, fear it not.  Ran. 
Saint Mark then prosper once, our hopeful plot.  jaco. 
Good souls, good day, I have not slept last night,  
I'll take a nap, then pell-mell broach all spite. Exeunt.    

ACTVS 2.  

SCENA. 1.  One knocks: Laverdure draws the Curtains sitting on his bed appareling himself, his trunk of apparel standing by him. Laue. 
Ho Bydett Lackey.  Byd. 
signior? Enter Bydett with Water and a Towel.  Laue. 
See who knocks, look you boy, peruse their habits, return perfect notice, la la lie ro. Exit Bid. & returns presently.  Byd. 
Quadratus.  Lau. 
Quadratus, mor dieu, ma vie: I lay not at my lodging tonight, I'll not see him now on my soul, he's in his old Perpetuana suit, I am not within.  Byd. 
He is fair, gallant, rich, neat as a Bridegroom, fresh as a new-minted sixpence, with him Lampatho Doria, Simplicius Faber.  Lau. 
And in good clothes.  Byd. 
Accoutred worthy a presence.  Lau. 
Uds so: my gold wrought Waistcoat and Nightcap open my Trunk, lay my richest suit on the top, my Velvet slippers, cloth of gold gamashes, where are my cloth of silver hose, lay them.—  Bydet. 
At pawn sir.  Lau. 
No sir, I do not bid you lay them at pawn Sir.  Byd. 
No sir, you need not for they are there already.  Lau. 
Mor du garzone: set my richest Gloves, Garters, Hats, just in the way of their eyes, so let them in, observe me withal duteous respect, let them in.  Enter Quadratus, Lampatho Doria, and Simplicius Faber. Qua. 
Phoebus, Phoebe, Sun, Moon, and seven Stars make thee the dilling of Fortune, my sweet Laverdure, my rich French blood, ha' ye dear rogue, hast any pudding Tobacco?  Lam. 
God morrow signior.  Sim. 
monsieur Laverdure, do you see that Gentleman, he goes but in black Satin as you see, but by Helicon he hath a cloth of Tissue wit, he breaks a jest, ha, he'll rail against the Court till the gallants— O God he is very Nectar, if you but sip of his love, you were immortal, I must needs make you known to him: I'll induce your love with dear regard. signior Lampatho here's is a French Gentleman monsieur Laverdure a traveler, a beloved of heaven, courts your acquaintance.  Lam. 
Sir I protest I not only take distinct notice of your dear rarities of exterior presence, but also I protest I am most vehemently enamoured, and very passionately dote on your inward adornments and abilities of spirit, I protest I shall be proud to do you most obsequious vassalage.  Qua. 
Is not this rare now: now by Gorgon's head,  
I gape and am struck stiff in wonderment,  
At sight of these strange beasts. You Chamblet youth,  
Simplicius Faber that hermaphrodite,  
Party par pale, that bastard mongrel soul,  
Is nought but admiration and applause,  
Of you Lampatho Doria, a fusty cask,  
Devote to mouldy customs of hoard eld,  
Doth he but speak, O tones of heaven itself,  
Doth he once write, O jesu admirable  
Cries out Simplicius: then Lampatho spits,  
And says faith 'tis good. But O to mark you thing  
Sweat to unite acquaintance to his friend,  
Labour his praises and endear his worth  
With titles all as formally tricked forth,  
As the Cap of a Dedicatory Epistle,  
Than sir to view Lampatho, he protests,  
Protests and vows, such sudden heat of love,  
That O 'twere warmth enough of mirth to dry,  
The stintless tears of old Heraclitus  
Make Niobe to laugh.  Lam. 
I protest I shall be proud to give you proof, I hold a most religious affiance with your love.  Lau. 
Nay gentle signior:  Lam. 
Let me not live else, I protest I will strain my utmost sinews, in strengthening your precious estimate, I protest, I will do all rights in all good offices that friendship can touch, or amplest virtue deserve.  Qua 
I protest believe him not, I'll beg thee Laverdure  
For a concealed Idiot if thou credit him,  
he's a Hyena, and with Civet scent  
Of perfumed words, draws to make a prey  
For laughter of thy credit. O this hot crackling love  
That blazeth on an instant, flames me out  
On the least puff of kindness, with protest, protest,  
Catzo I dread these hot protests, that press  
Come on so fast, no, no, away, away,  
You are a common friend or will betray.  
Let me clip amity, that's got with suit,  
I hate this whorish love that's prostitute.  Lau. 
Horn on my Tailor, could he not bring home,  
My Satin Taffeta, or Tissue suit:  
But I must needs be clothed in woollen thus.  
Bydett, what says he for my Silver hose?  
And Primrose Satin Doublet, God's my life,  
Gives he no more observance to my body.  Lam. 
O in that last suit gentle Laverdure,  
Visit my lodging: by Apollo's front  
Do but inquire my name; O straight they'll say  
Lampatho suits himself in such a hose.  Sim. 
Mark that Quadratus.  Lam. 
Consorts himself with such a doublet.  Sim. 
Good, good, good, O jesu admirable.  Lau. 
La la lie ro Sir.  Lam. 
O Pallas! Quadratus, hark, hark, a most complete phantasma, a most ridiculous humour, prithee shoot him through and through with a jest, make him lie by the lee, thou basilisk of wit.  Sim. 
O jesu, admirably well spoken, Angelical tongue.  Qua. 
Gnathonical Coxcomb,  Lam. 
Nay prithee, fut fear not he's no edge tool, you may jest with him.  Sim. 
No edge-tool, oh!  Qua. 
tone of heaven itself.  Sim. 
tone of heaven itself.  Qua. 
By blessedness I thought so.  Lam. 
Nay when, when?  Qua. 
Why thou Pole-head, thou janus, thou poltroon, thou protest, thou Earwig that wrigglest into men's brains: thou dirty cur that bemir'st with thy fawning, thou—  Lam. 
Obscure me, or—  Qua. 
signior Laverdure, by the heart of an honest man, this jebusite, this confusion to him, this worse than I dare to name, abuseth thee most incomprehensibly; is this your protest of most obsequious vassalage, protest to strain your utmost sum, your most—  Lam. 
So Phoebus warm my brain, I'll rhyme thee dead,  
Look for the Satire, if all the sour juice  
Of a tart brain, can souse thy estimate,  
I'll pickle thee.  Qua. 
Ha he mount Chirall on the wings of fame.  
A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse,  
Look thee I speak play scraps. Bydet I'll down  
Sing, sing, or stay we'll quaff or any thing  
Rivo, Saint Mark, let's talk as loss as air  
Unwind youths colours, display ourselves  
So that you envy-starved Cur may yelp  
And spend his chaps at our fantasticness.  Sym. 
O Lord Quadratus.  Qua. 
Away Idolater, why you Don Kynsayder  
Thou Canker eaten rusty cur, thou snaffle  
To freer spirits.  
Thinkest thou a libertine, am ungiu'd breast  
scorns not the shackles of thy envious clogs  
You will traduce us unto public scorn.  Lam. 
By this hand I will.  Qua. 
A fuotra for thy hand, thy heart, thy brain,  
Thy hate, thy malice, Envy, grinning spite  
Shall a freeborn that holds Antipathy.  Lam. 
Antipathy.  Qua. 
I Antipathy.  
A native hate unto the curse of man, bare-pated servitude,  
Quake at the frowns of a ragged Satirist  
A skrubbing railer whose course hardened fortune  
Grating his hide, galling his starved ribs  
Sits howling at Deserts more battle fate  
Who out of dungeon of his black Despairs  
scowls at the fortune of the fairer Merit.  Lau. 
Tut Via let all run glib and square.  Qua. 
Uds foot he cogs and cheats your simpler thoughts,  
My spleen's afire in the heat of hate  
I bear these gnats that hum about our ears,  
And sting blister our credit's in obscured shades.  Lau. 
Pewte bougra la, la, la, titt shaugh  
Shall I forbear to caper, sing, or vault  
To wear fresh clothes or wear perfumed sweets  
To trick my face, or glory in my fate,  
T' abandon natural propensitudes  
My fancy's humour, for a stiff jointed,  
Tattered nasty taber faced, puh, la, la, lie ro  Qua. 
Now by thy Lady's cheek I honour thee  
My rich free-blood, O my dear libertine  
I could suck the juice, the syrup of thy lip,  
For thy most generous thought. My Elysium.  Lam. 
O Sir you are so square you scorn reproof.  Qua. 
No sir should discreet Mastigophoros  
Or the dear spirit acute Canaidus  
(That Aretine; that most of me beloved  
Who in the rich esteem I prize his soul  
I term myself) should these once menace me  
Or curb, my humours with well governed check  
I should with most industrious regard,  
Observe abstain, and curb my skipping lightness  
But when an arrogant odd impudent,  
A blushless forehead only out of sense.  
Of his own wants, baules in malignant questing  
At others means of waving gallantry  
Pipht foutra.  Lam. 
I fail at none you well squared signior.  Qua. 
I can not tell, 'tis now grown fashion,  
What's out of rail's out of fashion:  
A man can scarce put on a tucked up cap  
A buttoned frisado suit, scarce eat good meat,  
anchovies, caviar, but he's satired  
And termed Fantastical: by the muddy spawn  
Of slimy newts, when troth, fantasticness,  
That which the natural Sophisters term  
Phantusia incomplexa, is a function  
Even of the bright immortal part of man.  
It is the common pass, the sacred door,  
Unto the prive chamber of the soul  
That barred nought passeth past the baser Court:  
Of outward sense by it th'inamorate,  
Most lively thinks he sees the absent beauties  
Of his loved mistress.  
By it we shape a new creation,  
Of things as yet unborn, by it we feed:  
Our ravenous memory, our intention feast  
Slid he that's not fantastical's a beast.  Lam. 
Most Fantastical protection of fantasticness.  Lau. 
Faith 'tis good.  Qua. 
So 't be fantastical 'tis wit's life blood.  Lau. 
Come signior my legs are girt.  Qua. 
Fantastically.  Lau. 
After a special humour a new cut.  Qua. 
Why then 'tis, rare, 'tis excellent. uds fut  
And I were to be hanged I would be choked  
Fantastically, he can scarce be saved  
That's not fantastical, I stand ferme to it.  La. 
Nay then sweet sir give reason, come on, when.  Qua. 
'tis hell to run in common base of men.  Lau. 
Hast not run thyself out of breath bully.  Qua. 
And I have not jaded thy ears more than I have tired my tongue, I could run discourse, put him out of his full pace.  

I could poor speech till thou cried'st ho, but troth,  
I dread a glut, and I confess much love  
To freer gentry whose pert agile spirits  
Is too much frost-bit numbed with ill strained snibs  
Hath tender-reached my speech. By Brutus' blood  
He is a turf that will be slave to man.  
But he's a beast that dreads his mistress fan.   Lau. 
Come all mirth and solace, capers, healths and whiffs  
Tomorrow are my nuptials celebrate:  
All friends all friends.  Lam. 
I protest—  Qua. 
Nay leave protests, pluck out your snarling fangs. When thou hast means be Fantastical and sociable; go to, here's my hand and you want forty shillings I am your Maecenas though not Atavis Edite regibus.  Lam. 
Why content and I protest—  Qua. 
I'll no protest.  Lam. 
Well and I do not leave these fopperies do not lend me forty shillings, & there's my hand, I embrace you, love you, nay adore thee, for by the juice of wormwood, thou hast a bitter brain.  Qu. 
You Simplicius? wilt leave that staring fellow Admiration, and Adoration of thy acquaintance wilt. A scorn out 'tis odious, too eager a defence argues a strong opposition, & to vehement a praise, draws a suspicion of other's worthy disparagement.  

Set tapers to bright day, it ill befits  
Good wines can vent themselves, and not good wits.   Sym. 
Good truth I love you, and with the grace of Heaven,  
I'll be very civil and—  Qua. 
Fantastical.  Sym. 
I'll be some thing, I have a concealed humour in me and 'twere broached 'twould spurty faith.  Qu. 
Come then Saint Mark let's be as light as air  
As fresh and jocund as the breast of May:  
I pray thee good French knight good plump cheeked chub  
Run some French passage, come let's see thy vain,  
Dances, scenes, and songs, royal entertain.  Lau. 
Petite lacque page, page, Bydet sing  
Give it the French jerk, quick spart, lightly, ha,  
Ha hers a turn unto my Lucea.  Qua. 
Stand stiff ho stand, take footing firm stand sure  
For if thou fall before thy mistress  
Thy manhood's damned; stand firm— ho good, so, so.  The Dance and Song. Lau. 
Come now via alone to Celia.  Qua. 
Stay take an old rhyme first though dry and lean  
'twill serve to close the stomach of the Scene.  Lau. 
This is thy humour to berhyme us still,  
Never so slightly pleased but out they fly.  Qua. 
They are mine own, no gleaned Poetry,  
My fashions known, out rhyme take't as you list:  
A fico, for the sour browed Zoilist.  

Music, Tobacco, Sack and Sleep,  
The tide of Sorrow backward keep.  
If thou art sad at others' fate,  
Rivo drink deep give care the mate,  
On us the end of time is come,  
Fond fear of that we cannot shun,  
Whilst quickest sense doth freshly last,  
Clip time about, hug pleasure fast.  
The Sisters ravel out our twine,  
He that knows little's most divine.  
Error deludes; whole beat this hence,  
naught's known but by exterior sense,  
Let glory blazon others deed,  
My blood than breath craves better meed,  
Let twattling fame cheated others' rest,  
I am no dish for rumours feast.  
Let honour others hope abuse,  
I'll nothing have so nought will lose:  
I'll strive to be nor great nor small,  
To live nor die, fate helmeth all,  
When I can breathe no longer then,  
Heaven take all, there put Amen.  
How be't, how be't?   Lau. 
Faith so, so, telamant, quelamant, as't please Opinion to currant it.  Qua. 
Why then via let's walk,  Lau. 
I must give notice to an odd pedant as we pass of my nuptials, I use him for he is obscure and shall marry us in private, I have many enemies but secrecy is the best evasion from envy.  Qua 
Holds it tomorrow?  Lau. 
I firm absolute,  Lam. 
I'll say amen if the Priest be mute.  Qua. 
Epithalamiums will I sing my chuck,  
Go on, spend freely, out on dross 'tis muck. Exeunt  Enter a Schoolmaster, draws the curtains behind with, Battus Nows, Slip, Nathaniel and Holifernes Pippo, Schoolboys, sitting with books in their hands. All. 
Salve Magister.  Ped 
Salvete pueri estote salvi, vos saluere exopto vobis salutem, bat my fili, fili mi bat.  Bat. 
Quid vis.  Ped. 
Stand forth repeat your lesson without book.  Bat. 
A noun is the name of a thing that may be seen felt heard or understood.  Ped, 
Good boy, on on,  Bat. 
Of nouns some be substantives and some be substantives.  Ped. 
Adjectives.  Bat. 
Adjectives, a noun substantive either is proper to the thing that it betokeneth.  Ped. 
Well to numbers.  Battus. 
In Nouns be two numbers, the Singular and the Plural, the Singular number speaketh of one as Lapis a Stone, the Plural speaketh of more than one, as Lapides stones.  Ped. 
Good child, now thou art passed Lapides Stones, proceed to the cases Nous, say you next Nous, where's your lesson Nous.  Nous, 
I am in a verb forsooth.  Ped. 
Say on for sooth say say.  Nous. 
A verb is a part of speech declined with mood and tense and betokeneth doing as Amo I love,  Ped. 
How many kind of verbs are there?  Nous. 
2. Personal and impersonal,  Ped. 
Of verbs personals, how many kinds.  Nou. 
Five, Active Passive Neuter Deponent and Common. A Verb Active endeth in O and betokeneth to do as Amo I love and by putting to R it may be a passive as Amor I am loved.  Ped. 
Very good child, now learn to know the Deponent and common: Say you slip.  Slip. 
Cedant arma togae, concedant lauria linguae.  Ped. 
What part of speech is lingua, inflect, inflect.  Slip. 
Singulariter, nominativo Hec lingua.  Ped. 
Why is lingua the Feminine gender?  Slip. 
Forsooth because it is the Feminine gender.  Ped. 
Ha thou Ass, thou Dolt, Idem per idem, mark it: lingua is declined with Hec the Feminine, because it is a household stuff particularly belonging, and most commonly resident under the roof of Women's mouths. Come on you Nathaniel say you, say you next, not too fast, say treatably, say.  Nath. 
Mascula dicuntur Monosilaba nomina quedam.  Ped. 
Faster, faster.  Nath. 
Vt, sal, sol, ren & splen: car, ser, vir, vas, vadis, as, mas,  
Bes, cres, pres & pes, glis, glirens habens genetivo,  
Mos, flos, ros & tros, muns, dens, mons, pons.  Ped. 
Rup, tup, snup, slup, bor, hor, cor, mor: holla, holla, holla, you Holofernes Pippo, put him down, wipe your Nose: fie on your sleeve, where's your Muckender your Grandmother gave you? well say on, say on.  Hol. 
pray Master what words this?  Ped. 
Ass, Ass.  Hol. 
As in presenti perfectum format in, in, in.  Ped. 
In what Sir?  Hol. 
Perfectum format in what Sir?  Ped. 
In what Sir in avi?  Hol. 
In what Sir in avi.  
Vt no, nas, navi, vocito, vocitas, voci, voci, voci—  Ped. 
What's next?  Hol. 
Voci, What's next?  Ped. 
Why thou ungracious child, thou simple animal, thou barnacle. Nous snare him, take him up, and you were my father you should up.  Hol. 
Indeed I am not your Father, O Lord now for God sake; let me go out, my mother told a thing, I shall bewray all else. Hark you Master, my Grandmother entreats you to come to dinner tomorrow morning.  Ped. 
I say untruss take him up, Nous, dispatch what not perfect in an Ass in presenty?  Hol. 
In truth I'll be as perfect an Ass in presenty as any of this Company, with the grace of god law, this once, this once, and I do so any more—  Ped. 
I say hold him up.  Hol. 
Ha let me say my prayers first. You know not what you ha' done now, all the syrup of my brain is run into my buttocks & ye spill the juice of my wit well, ha sweet, ha sweet, honey barbary sugar sweet Master.  Ped. 
sans tricks trifles, delays, demurrers procrastinations or retardations mount him, mount him.  Enter Quadratus Lampatho Laverdure and Simplicius. Qua. 
Be merciful my gentle signior.  Lau. 
we'll sue his pardon out.  Ped. 
He is reprieved: and now Apollo bless your brains Facundious and Elaborate elegance, make your presence gracious in the eyes of your Mistress.  Lau. 
You must along with us, lend private ear.  Sim. 
What is your name.  Hol. 
Holofernes Pippo.  Sim. 
Who gave you that name. Nay let me alone for sposing of a scholar.  Hol. 
My godfathers and godmothers in my baptism.  Sim. 
Truly gallants I am enamoured on thee boy wilt thou serve me.  Hol. 
Yes and please my grandmother when I come to years of discretion.  Ped 
And you have a propensitude to him, he shall be for you: I was solicited to grant him leave to play the Lady in comedies presented by Children, but I knew his voice was to small and his stature to lo, sing, sing a treble Holofernes; sing.  The Song. 
A very small sweet voice I'll assure you.  Qua. 
'tis smally sweet indeed.  Sym. 
A very pretty Child, hold up thy head, there, buy thee some plums.  Qua. 
Nay they must play, you go along with us.  Ped. 
Ludendi venia est petita & concessa.  All. 
Gratias.  Sym. 
Pippo's my page, how like you him, ha has he not a good face, ha.  Lau. 
Exceeding amiable; come away,  
I long to see my love my Celia.  Sym. 
Carry my rapier hold up so, good child, stay gallants umph a sweet face.  Lam. 
I relish not this mirth, my spirit is untwist,  
My heart is ravelled out in discontents,  
I am deep thoughtful, and I shoot my soul  
Through all creation of omnipotence.  Qua. 
What art melancholy Lamp. I'll feed thy humour  
I'll give thee reason straight to hang thyself  
Marked marked: In heavens handiwork their's nought  
Believe it.  Lam. 
In heavens handiwork there's nought  
None more vile, accursed, reprobate to bliss  
Than man, and 'mong men a scholar most.  
Things only fleshly sensitive, an Ox or Horse,  
They live and eat, and sleep, and drink, and die  
And are not touched with recollections  
Of things o'erpast or staggered infant doubts  
Of things succeeding: but leave the manly beasts,  
And give but pence a piece to have a sight:  
Of beastly man now.  Sym. 
What so Lampatho, good truth I will not pay your Ordinary if you come not.  Lam. 
Dost thou hear that voice. I'll make a parrot now,  
As good a man as he in fourteen nights  
I never heard him vent a syllable:  
Of his own creating since I knew the use  
Of eyes and ears? Well he's perfect blessed,  
Because a perfect beast. I'll gauge my heart  
He knows no difference essential  
Twixt my dog and him. The whoreson sot is blessed  
Is rich in ignorance, makes fair usance on't  
And every day augments his barbarism  
So love me Calmness I do envy him forts.  
I was a scholar: seven useful springs  
Did I deflower in quotations  
Of crossed opinions 'bout the soul of man  
The more I learned the more I learned to doubt  
Knowledge and wit faiths foes, turn faith about  Sim. 
Nay come good signior, I stay all the gentlemen here, I wood fain give my pretty page a pudding pie.  Lam. 
Honest Epicure.  
Nay mark list delight, delight my spaniel slept, whilst I bausd leaves.  
tossed o'er the dunces poured on the old print  
Of titled words, and still my spaniel slept.  
Whilst I wasted lamp-oil, bated my flesh  
Shrunk up my veins, and still my spaniel slept.  
And still I held converse with Zabarell  
Aquinas Scotus, and the musty saw  
Of antic Donate, still my spaniel slept  
Still on went I, first an sit anima  
Then and it were mortal, O hold hold  
At that they are at brain buffets fell by the ears,  
A main pell-mell together, still my spaniel slept.  
Then whether 'twere Corporeal, Local, fixed,  
Extraduce, but whether't had free will  
Or no, ho Philosophers  
Stood banding factions all so strongly propped,  
I staggered, knew not which was firmer part.  
But thought, quoted, read, observed and pried,  
Stuffed noting books, and still my spaniel slept.  
At length he waked and yawned and by yond sky,  
For aught I know he knew as much as I.  Sim. 
delicate good Lampatho come away. I assure you i'll give but two pence more.  Lam. 
How, 'twas created, how the soul exsistes  
One talks of motes, the soul was made of motes,  
another fire, other light, a third a spark of Star-like nature  
Hippo water, Anaximenes' air,  
Aristoxenus' Music; Critias I know not what,  
A company of odd phrenetici  
Did eat my youth, and when I crept abroad,  
Finding my numbness in this nimble age,  
I fell a railing, but now soft and slow,  
I know, I know nought, but I nought do know,  
What shall I do, what plot, what course pursue?  Qua. 
Why turn a Temporist, row with the tide,  
Pursue the cut, the fashion of the age,  
Well here's my scholars course, first get a School,  
And then a ten-pound Cure, keep both, then buy,  
(Stay marry, I marry) then a farm or so,  
Serve God and Mammon, to the Devil go,  
Affect some sect, I 'tis the sect is it,  
So thou canst seem 'tis held the precious wit:  
And O if thou canst get some higher seat,  
Where thou mayst sell your holy portion,  
(Which charitable providence ordained  
In sacred bounty for a blessed use)  
Alien the glebe, entail it to thy loins,  
Entomb it in thy grave  
Past resurrection to his native use.  
Now if there be a hell, and such swine saved,  
Heaven take all, that's all my hopes have craved.  Enter Pippo. Pip. 
My Simplicias Master.  Lam. 
Your Master Simplicius.  Pip. 
Has come to you to sent.  Lam. 
Has sent to me to come.  Pip. 
Ha, ha, has bought me a fine dagger, and a Hat and a Feather, I can say As in presenti now.  Company of Boys within. 
Quadratus Quadratus, away, away.  Lam. 
We come sweet gallants; and grumbling hate lie still  
And turn Fantastic: he that climbs a hill  
Must wheel about, the ladder to account  
Is sly dissemblance, he that means to mount,  
Must lie all level in the prospective  
Of eager sighted greatness, thou wouldst thrive,  
The Venice state is young, loose, and unknit,  
Can relish nought but luscious vanities  
Go fit his tooth, O glavering flattery,  
How potent art thou: front look brisk and sleek,  
That such base dirt as you should dare to reek,  
In PRINCE's nostrils. Well my scene is long.  All within. Quadratus. Qua. 
I come hot bloods, those that their state would swell,  
Must bear a counter-face: the devil and hell  
Confound them all, that's all my prayers exact,  
So ends our chat, sound Music for the Act. Exeunt.    

ACT. 3.  

SCAE. 1.  Enter Francisco half dressed, in his black doublet and round cap, the the rest rich, jacomo bearing his hat and feather? Adrean his doublet and band, Randolfo his cloak and staff. they clothe Francisco, whilst Bydet creeps in and observes them. Much of of this done whilst the Act is playing. Fran. 
For Godsake remember to take special marks of me, or you will near be able to know me.  Adri. 
Why man?  Fra. 
Why good faith I scarce know myself already methinks I should remember to forget myself, now I am so shining brave. Indeed Francisco was always a sweet youth, for I am a Perfumer, but thus brave? I am an alien to it, would you make me like the drowned Albano, must I bear't mainly up, must I be he.  Ran. 
What else man? O what else?  jaco. 
I warrant you give him but fair rich clothes,  
He can be ta'en, reputed any thing,  
apparel's grown a God and goes more neat,  
Makes men of rags, which straight he bears aloft,  
Like patched up scarecrows to affright the rout  
Of the Idolatrous vulgar, that worship Images,  
Stand awed and bare-scalped at the gloss of silks,  
Which like the glorious Ajax of Lincoln's Inn,  
(Surveyed with wonder by me when I lay,  
Factor in London:) laps up nought but filth  
And excrements, that bear the shape of men,  
Whose inside every day would peck and tear,  
But that vain scarecrow clothes entreats forbear.  Fran, 
You would have me take upon me Albano,  
A valiant gallant Venetian Burgomasco,  
Well my beard, my feather, short sword and my oath  
Shall do't fear not. What I know a number  
By the sole warrant of a Lapy-beard,  
A rain beat plume, and a good chop filling oath,  
With an odd French shrug, and by the lord or so,  
Ha leaped into sweet Captain with such ease,  
As you would fear't not, I'll gauge my heart I'll do't,  
How sits my Hat, ha, jack doth my feather wag.  jaco. 
methinks now in the common sense of fashion,  
Thou shouldst grow proud, and like a fore-horse view,  
None but beforehand gallants, as for sides  
And those that rank in equal file with thee,  
Study a faint salute, give a strange eye,  
But as to those in rearward O be blind,  
The world wants eyes, it cannot see behind.  Fran. 
Where is the strumpet, where's the hot veined French,  
Lives not Albano, hath Celia so forgot,  
Albanos love, that she must forthwith wed,  
A runabout, a skipping Frenchman—  jaco. 
Now you must grow in heat and stut.  Fran. 
An odd phantasma, a beggar, a Sir, a who who who what you will, a straggling go go go gound, f f f f fut—  Adrian. 
Passing like him, passing like him, O 'twill strike all dead.  Pan. 
I am ravished 'twill be peerless exquisite,  
Let him go out instantly.  jaco. 
O not till twilight, mean time I'll prop up  
The tottering Rumor of Albanos scape.  
And safe arrival, it begins to spread,  
If this plot live Frenchman thy hopes are dead. Exeunt.  Bydet. 
And if it live strike of this little head. Exit.  Enter Albano with Slip his Page. Alba. 
Can it be? be't possible? be't within the bounds of faith? O villainy.  Slip 
The clapper of Rumor strikes on both sides ringing out the French knight is in firm possession of my mistress your wife.  Alba. 
be't possible I should be dead so soon?  
In her affects, how long be't since our shipwreck?  Slip. 
Faith I have little arithmetic in me, yet I remember the storm made me cast up perfectly the whole sum of all I had received, three days before I was liquored soundly my guts were rinsed for the heavens: I look as pale ever since as if I had ta'en the diet this spring.  Alba. 
But how long be't since our shipwreck?  Slip. 
Mary since we were hung by the heels on the batch of Sicily to make a jail delivery of the sea in our maws 'tis just three months: shall I speak like a Poet? Thrice hath the horned moan.  Alba. 
Talk not of horns. O Celia how oft  
(When thou hast laid thy cheek upon my breast  
And with lascivious petulancy sewed.  
For Hymeneal dalliance marriage rights)  
O then how oft with passionate protests  
And zealous vows hast thou obliged thy love,  
In dateless bands unto Albanos breast?  
Then did I but mention second Marriage  
With what a bitter hate would she inveigh  
'gainst retailed wedlocks. O would she lisp  
If you should die, (then would she slide a tear,  
And with a wanton languishment intwist  
Her hands) O God and you should die. Marry?  
Could I love life; my dear Albano dead  
Should any Prince possess his widows bed?  
And now see, see, I am but rumoured drowned.  Slip. 
she'll make you Prince, your worship must be crowned  
O master you know the woman is the weaker creature,  
She must have a prop: the maid is the brittle metal  
Her head is quickly cracked: the wife is queasy stomached  
She must be fed with novelties; but then what's your widow,  
Custom is a second nature, I say no more but think you the rest.  Alba. 
If love be holy, if that mystery,  
Of co-united hearts be sacrament?  
If the unbounded goodness have infused.  
A sacred ardour if a mutual love  
Into our Species, of those amorous joys,  
Those sweets of life, those comforts even in death  
Spring from a cause above our reasons reach?  
If that clear flame deduce his heat from heaven?  
'tis like his cause's eternal always one  
As is th' instiller of divinest love  
Unchanged by time immortal maugre death.  
But O 'tis grown a figment: love a jest:  
A comic Poesy: the soul of man is rotten  
Even to the core no sound affection.  
Our love is hollow vaulted, stands on props,  
Of circumstance, profit or ambitious hopes.  
The other tissue Gown or Chain of pearl  
Makes my coy minx to nuzzle twixt the breasts  
Of her lulled husband, other carcanet,  
deflowers that lady's bed: one hundred more  
Marries that loathed blouse, one ten pound odds  
In promised jointure makes the hard palmed sire,  
Enforce his daughters tender lips to start  
At the sharp touch of some loathed stubbed beard,  
The first pure time the golden age is fled,  
Heaven knows I lie 'tis now the age of gold,  
For it all marreth and even virtues sold.  Slip. 
Master will you trust me and I'll.  Alba 
Yes boy I'll trust thee, babes & fools i'll trust  
But servants faith, wives love, or females lust,  
A usurer and the devil sooner. Now were I dead,  
methinks I see a huff-cap swaggering sir,  
Pawning my plate, my jewels, mortgage? Nay  
Selling out right the purchase of my brows,  
Whilst my poor fatherless lean tottered son,  
My gentry's relics, my houses only prop,  
Is sawed asunder, lies forlorn, all bleak,  
Unto the griefs of sharp Necessities,  
Whilst his father in law, his father in Devil, or d d d d Devil,  
f f f father,  
Or who who who who; What you will,  
When is the marriage morn?  Slip. 
even next rising son.  Alba. 
Good, good, good, go to my brother Adrian,  
Tell him I'll lurk, stay, tell him I'll lurk, stay,  
Now is Albanos marriage bed new hung  
With fresh rich Curtains, now are my valence up,  
Embossed with orient Pearl, my grandsire's gift,  
Now are the Lawn sheets fumed with violets,  
To fresh the palled lascivious appetite,  
Now work the Cooks, the pastry sweats with slaves,  
The Marchpanes glitter, now now the musicians  
Hover with nimble sticks over squeaking crowds,  
tickling the dried guts of a Mewing cat,  
The Tailors, Starchers, sempsters, Butchers, poulterers, Mercers, all, all, all, now now now, none think a me, the f f f French is te f f f fine man, de p p p pock man, de—  Slip. 
Peace, peace, stand concealed, yonder by all descriptions is he would be husband of my Mistress: your wife hah meat hah.  Alba. 
Uds so, so, so, soul that's my velvet cloak.  Slip. 
O peace, observe him, hah.  Enter Laverdure and Bidett talking, Quadratus, Lampatho, Simplicius, Pedante, and Holiternes Pippo. Bidet. 
'Tis most true Sir, I heard all, I saw all, I tell all, and I hope you believe all, the sweet Francisco Soranza, the Perfumer is by your rival jacomo, and your two brothers that must be, when you have married your wife, that shall be.  Peda. 
With the grace of Heaven.  Bidett. 
Disguised so like the drowned Albano to cross your suit, that by my little honesty 'twas great consolation to me to observe them, passion of joy, of hope. O excellent cried Andrea, passingly cried Randolfo; unparalleled lisps jacomo, good, good, good, says Andrea, now stut says jacomo, now stut says Randolfo, whilst the ravished Perfumer had like to have watered the seams of his breeches for extreme pride of their applause.  Lau. 
Sest, I'll to Celia, and maugre the nose of her friends, wed her: bed her, my first son shall be a Captain, and his name shall be what it please his Godfathers, the second if he have a face bad enough, a Lawyer, the third a Merchant, and the fourth if he be maimed, dull brained, or hard shaped, a scholar, for that's your fashion.  Qua. 
Get them, get them man first; now by the wantonness of the night, and I were a wench I would not ha-thee, wert thou an heir, nay (which is more) a fool.  Lau. 
Why I can rise high, a straight leg, a plump thigh, a full vain, a round cheek, and when it pleaseth the fertility of my chin to be delivered of a beard, 'twill not wrong my kissing, for my lips are rebels, and stand out.  Qua. 
Ho but there's an old fusty Proverb, these great talkers are never good doers.  Lam. 
Why what a babell arrogance is this?  
Men will put by the very stock of fate,  
They'll thwart the destiny of marriage,  
Strive to disturb the sway of providence,  
they'll do it?  Qua. 
Come, you'll be snarling now.  Lam 
As if we had free-will in supernatural  
Effects, and that our love or hate  
Depended not on causes 'bove the reach  
Of humane stature.  Qua. 
I think I shall not lend you forty shillings now.  Lam. 
Dirt upon dirt, fear is beneath my shoe,  
Dreadless of racks, strappados, or the sword,  
maugre Informer and sly intelligence,  
I'll stand as confident as Hercules,  
And with a frightless resolution,  
Rip up and lance our times impieties.  Sim. 
Uds so peace.  Lam. 
Open a bounteous ear for I'll be free,  
Ample as Heaven, give my speech more room,  
Let me unbrace my breasts, strip up my sleeves,  
Stand like an executioner to vice,  
To strike his head off with the keener edge,  
Of my sharp spirit.  Lau. 
Room and good licence, come on, when, when.  Lam. 
Now is my fury mounted, fix your eyes,  
Intend your senses, bend your listening up,  
For I'll make greatness quake, I'll tawe the hide  
Of thick-skinned Hugeness.  Lau. 
'tis most gracious we'll observe thee calmly.  Qua. 
Hang on thy tongues end, come on prithee do.  Lam. 
I'll see you hanged first, I thank you Sir, I'll none,  
This is the strain that chokes the theatres:  
That makes them crack with full stuffed audience,  
This is your humour only in request  
Forsooth to rail, this brings your ears to bed,  
This people gape for, for this some do stare  
This some would hear, to crack the author's neck,  
This admiration and applause pursues,  
Who cannot rail, my humours changed 'tis clear,  
Pardon I'll none, I prize my joints more dear.  Bidet. 
Master, Master, I ha' descried the Perfumer in Albanos disguise, look you, look you, rare sport, rare sport.  Alba. 
I can contain my impatience no longer, you monsieur cavalier, Saint Dennis, you Capricious Sir, signior Caranto French brawl, you that must marry Celia Galanto, is Albano drowned now? go wander, avant Knight, errant Celia shall be no cuck-quean, my heir no beggar, my plate no pawn, my land no mortgage, my wealth no food for thy luxuries, my house no harbour for thy Comrades, my bed no booty for thy lusts, my any thing shall be thy nothing, go hence pack, pack, avant, caper, caper, alone, alone, pass by, pass by, cloak your nose, away, vanish, wander depart, slink by away.  Lau. 
Hark you perfumer, tell jacomo Randulfo, and Adrean, 'twill not do, look you say no more, but 'twill not do.  Alba. 
What perfumer? what jacomo?  Qua. 
Nay assure thee honest Perfumer good Francisco, we know all man, go home to thy Civit Box, look to the profit, commodity or emolument of thy muscat's tail, go clap on your round Cap, my what do you lack sir, for i'faith good rogue all's descried.  Alba. 
What Perfumer? what Muscat? what Francisco, what do you lack, be't not enough that you kissed my wife?  Lau 
Enough.  Alba. 
I enough, and may be, I fear me too much, but you must flout me, deride me, scoff me, keep out, touch not my porch, as for my wife—  Lau. 
Stir to the door: dare to disturb the match, And by the—  Alba. 
My sword: menace Albano fore his own doors.  Lau. 
No not Albano but Francisco, thus, Perfumer, I'll make you stink if you stir a; for the rest: well via via. Exeunt Cest. Remanet Albano, Slip. Simp. and Holif.  Alba. 
jesu, jesu, what intends this? ha?  Sim. 
O God Sir, you lie as open to my understanding as a Courtesan, I know you as well—  Alba. 
somebody knows me yet, praise heaven somebody knows me yet.  Sim. 
Why look you Sir, I ha' paid for my knowing of men and women too in my days, I know you are Francisco Soranza the Perfumer, I maugre signior Satin I.  Alba. 
Do not tempt my patience, go to, do not.  Sim. 
I know you dwell in Saint Marks lane, at the sign of the Muscat as well—  Alba. 
Fool, or mad, or drunk no more.  Sim. 
I know where you were dressed, where you were—  Alba. 
Nay then take all, take all, take all—  He a Simplicius. Simp. 
And I tell not my father, if I make you not lose your office of gutter Mastership; and you be Scavenger next year well: Come Holofernes come good Holofernes, come servant. Exit Sim. Holife.  Enter jacomo. Alba. 
Francisco Soranza and perfumer and muscat, and gutter master hay, hay, hay, go, go, go, gods f, f, f, fut; I'll to the Duke and I'll so ti, ti, ti, tickle them.  jaco. 
Precious, what means he to go out so soon,  
Before the dusk of twilight might deceive  
The doubtful priers. What holla.  Alba. 
Whop what devil now?  jaco. 
I'll feign I know him not, what business fore those doors.  Alba. 
What's that to thee  jaco. 
You come to wrong my friend Sir Laverdure  
Confess or—  Alba. 
My sword boy s, s, s, s, soul my sword.  jaco. 
O my dear rogue thou art a rare dissembler.  Alba. 
See see.  Enter Adrian and Randolfo. jaco. 
Francisco did I not help to clothe thee even now  
I would has worn thee Albano my good sweet slave. exit Ia.  Alba. 
See, see, jesu, jesu, impostors, coney-catchers, Sancta Maria?  Ran. 
Look you, he walks he feigns most excellent.  Adri. 
Accost him first as if you were ignorant  
Of the deceit.  Ran. 
O dear Albano now thrice happy eyes  
To view the hopeless presence of my brother.  Alba. 
Most loved kinsman praise to Heaven yet,  
You know Albano, but for yonder slaves— well.  Adri. 
Success could not come on more gracious.  Alba. 
Had not you come (dear brother Adrian)  
I think not one would know me. Ulysses dog  
Had quicker sense than my dull Countrymen,  
Why none had known me.  Rand. 
Doubt you of that? would I might die,  
Had I not known the guile I would ha' sworn  
Thou hadst been Albano, my nimble cozening knave.  Alba. 
Whip, whip, Heaven preserve all Saint Mark Saint Mark.  
Brother Adrian, be frantic prithee be  
Say I am a Perfumer Francisco, hay hay  
be't not some feast day you are all rank drunk  
rats ra, ra, ra, rats knights of the be, be, be, bell, be, be, bell.  Adri. 
Go go proceed thou dost it rare farewell.  Exeunt Adrian and Randolfo. Alba. 
Farewell? ha? be't even so? boy who am I?  Slip. 
My Lord Albano,  Alb. 
By this breast you lie  
The Samian faith is true, true, I was drowned  
And now my soul is skipped into a perfumer a gutter-master.  Slip. 
Believe me sir—  Alba. 
No no I'll believe nothing, no,  
The disadvantage of all honest hearts  
Is quick credulity, perfect state policy  
Can crossbite even sense, the worlds turned juggler,  
Casts mists before our eyes Haygh passe re passe  
I'll credit nothing.  Slip. 
Good Sir.  Alba. 
Hence ass.  
Doth not Opinion stamp the currant pass,  
Of each man's value, virtue, quality?  
Had I engrossed the choice commodities  
Of heavens traffic, yet reputed vile  
I am a rascal; O dear unbelief,  
How wealthy dost thou make thy owner's wit?  
Thou train of knowledge, what a privilege  
Thou giv'st to thy possessor: anchor'st him,  
From floating with the tide of vulgar faith:  
From being damned with multitudes dear unbelief,  
I am a Perfumer, ay, thinkst thou my blood,  
My brothers know not right Albano yet?  
Away 'tis faites, if Albanos name,  
Were liable to sense, that I could taste or touch  
Or see, or feel it, it might 'tice belief,  
But since 'tis voice, and air, come to the Muscat boy,  
Francisco, that's my name 'tis right, ay, ay,  
What do you lack? what be't you lack right that's my cry. Exeunt  Enter Slip and Noose Trip with the truncheon of a staff torch, and doit with a Pantofle, Bidet, Holyfernes following. The Cornets sound. Byd. 
Proclaim our titles  Doit. 
Bosphoros Cormelydon Honorificacuminos Bydet.  Holyf. 
I think your Majesties a Welshman, you have a horrible long name.  Bydet. 
Death or silence proceed.  Doit. 
Honorificacuminos Bidet Emperor of Cracks, Prince of Pages, Marks of Mumchance, and sole regent over a bale of false dice, to all his under minister's health, Crowns, Sack, Tobacco, and stockings uncracked above the shoe.  Bydet. 
ourself will give them their charge, Now let me stroke my beard and I had it, & speak wisely if I knew how: most unconscionable, honest little, or little honest good subjects, inform our person of your several qualities and of the prejudice that is foisted upon you that ourself may pursue, prevent, and preoccupy the pustulent dangers incident to all your cases.  Doit. 
Here is a petition exhibited of the particular grievances of each sort of pages.  Bydet. 
We will vouchsafe in this our public session to peruse them, pleaseth your excellent wagship to be informed that the division of pages is tripartite (tripartite) or three fold, of pages, some be Court pages, others Ordinary gallants pages, & the third-apple squires, basket-bearers or pages of the placket, with the last we will proceed first, stand forth page of the placket, what is your mistress?  Slip. 
A kind of Puritan.  Byd. 
How live you?  Slip. 
Miserably complaining to your crack-ship though we have light Mistresses we are made the Children and servants of darkness, what profane use we are put to, all these gallants more feelingly know then we can lively express, it is to be commiserated and by your royal insight only to be prevented that a male monkey and the diminutive of a man should be Synonima & no sense. Though we are the dross of your subjects, yet being a kind of page, let us find your Celsitude kind and respective of our time-fortunes and births abuse, and so in the name of our whole tribe of empty basket-bearers, I kiss your little hands.  Bidet. 
Your case is dangerous and almost desperate stand forth ordinary gallants page, what is the nature of your Master?  Noose. 
He eats well and right slovenly, and when the dice favour him goes in good clothes, and scours his pink colour silk stockings: when he hath any money he bears his crowns, when he hath none I carry his purse, he cheats well, swears better, but swaggers in a wantons Chamber admirably, he loves his boy and the rump of a crammed Capon, and this summer hath a passing thrifty humour to bottle ale: as contemptuous as Lucifer, as arrogant as ignorance can make him, as libidinous as Priapus, he keeps me as his adamant to draw metal after to his lodging, I curl his periwig, paint his cheeks, perfume his breath, I am his frotterer or rubber in a Hothouse, the prop of his lies, the bearer of his false dice, and yet for all this like the Persian Louse that eats biting, and biting eats, so I say sithing and sithing say my end is to paste up a Si quis my Master's fortunes are forced to cashier me and so six to one I fall to be a Pippin squire. Hic finis priami, this is the end of pickpockets.  Bydet. 
Stand forth Court-page, thou lookest pale and wan.  Trip. 
Most ridiculous Emperor.  Bydet. 
O say no more, I know thy miseries, what betwixt thy Lady, her Gentlewoman and thy Masters late gaming thou mayst look pale. I know thy miseries and I condole thy calamities, thou art borne well, bred ill, but diest worst of all, thy blood most commonly gentle, thy youth ordinarily idle, and thy age to often miserable. When thy first suit is fresh, thy cheeks clear of Court soils, and thy Lord fallen out with his Lady, so long may be he'll chuck thee under the chin, call thee good pretty ape and give thee a scrap from his own trencher, but after he never beholds thee, but when thou squir'st him with a torch to a wantons sheets, or lights his Tobacco pipe. Never useth thee but as his pander never, regardeth thee but as an idle burr that stickst upon the nap of his fortune, and so naked thou camest into the world and naked thou must return; whom serve you.  Holy. 
A fool.  Bydet. 
Thou art my happiest subject, the service of a fool is the only blessedst slavery that ever put on a chain and a blue coat, they know not what nor for what they give, but so they give 'tis good, so it be good they give: fortunes are ordained for fools, as fools are for fortune, to play with all not to use, hath he taken an oath of allegiance is he of our brotherhood yet?  Holy. 
Not yet right venerable Honorificac cac cac cacuminos Bidet: but as little an infant as I am I will, and with the grace of wit I will deserve it.  Bydet. 
You must perform a valorous Virtuous, and religious exploit first in desert of your order.  Holyf. 
What be't?  Byd. 
Cozen thy master, he is a fool, and was created for men of wit such as thyself to make use of.  Holy. 
Such as myself. Nay faith for wit I think for my age or so, but on, sir.  Bidet. 
That thou mayst the easier purge him of superfluous blood I will describe thy masters constitution, he loves and is beloved of himself and one more; his dog. There is a company of unbraced untruss, rutters in the town, that crinkle in the hams swearing their flesh is their only living, and when they have any crowns, cry god a mercy Moll, and shrugging let the cuckolds pay for't: intimating that their maintenance flows from the wantonness of Merchants wives, when in troth the plain troth is, the plain and the stand, or the plain stand and deliver, delivers them all their living. These comrades have persuaded thy Master that there's no way to redeem his peach colour satin suit from pawn but by the love of a citizen's wife, he believes it, they flout him he feeds them, and now 'tis our honest and religious meditation that he feed us. Holofernes Puppi.  Holy. 
Pippo and shall please you.  Bydet. 
Pippo 'tis our will and pleasure thou suit thyself like a merchants wife, leave the managing of the sequence unto our prudence.  Holy. 
Or unto our Prudence truly she is a very witty wench and hath a stammel petticoat with three guards for the nonce; but for your merchants wife alas I am too little, speak too small, go to gingerly, by my troth I fear I shall look too fair.  Bydet. 
Our majesty dismounteth, and we put of our greatness, and now my little knaves I am plain Crack, as I am Bosphoros Carmelidon Honorificacuminos Bydet I am imperious: honour sparkles in mine eyes; but as I am Crack I will convey crossbite and cheat upon Simplicius, I will feed, satiat and fill your paunches: replenish, stuff or furnish your purses, we will laugh when others weep, sing when others sigh, feed when others starve, and be drunk when others are sober, this my charge at the loose, as you love our brotherhood, avoid true speech square dice, small liquour, and above all, those to ungentlemanlike protestations of indeed and verily, and so gentle Apollo touch thy nimble string our scene is done yet 'fore we cease we sing. The Song and Exeunt.    

ACT. 4.  

SCE 1.  Enter Celia Meletza Lyzabetta and Lucea. Celia. 
Faith sister I long to play with a feather,  
Prithee Lucia bring the shuttlecock.  Melet. 
Out on him light pated Fantastic, he's like one of our gallants at.—  Lyza. 
I wonder who thou speak'st well of?  Mel. 
Why of myself, for by my troth I know none else will.  Celia. 
Sweet sister Meletza let's sit in judgement a little, faith of my servant monsieur Laverdure.  Mel. 
Troth well for a servant, but for a husband (fie) I.  Lyza. 
Why why?  Melet. 
Why he is not a plain fool, nor fair, nor fat, nor rich, rich fool. But he is a knight, his honour will give the passado in the presence tomorrow night, I hope he will deserve: All I can say is as, as the common fiddlers will say in their God send you well to do.  Ly. 
How think'st thou of the amorous jacomo.  Melet. 
jacomo why on my bare troth.  Celia. 
Why bare troth.  Melet. 
Because my troth is like his chin tath no hair on't; gods me his face looks like the head of a taber, but trust me he hath a good wit.  Ly. 
Who told you so.  Mel. 
One that knows, one that can tell?  Celia. 
whose's that.  Melet. 
himself.  Lyz. 
Well wench, thou hadst a servant one Fabius what hast thou done with him.  Melet. 
I done with him? out of him puppy, by this feather his beard is directly brick colour, and perfectly fashioned like the husk of a chestnut, he kisses with the driest lip; fie on him.  Celia. 
O but your servant Quadratus the absolute Courtier.  Melet. 
Fie, fie, speak no more of him, he lives by begging?  
He is a fine Courtier flatters admirable, kisses  
Fair Madam, smells surpassing sweet, wears  
And holds up the arras, supports the tapestry,  
When I pass into the presence very gracefully and  
I assure you.  Lucea. 
Madam here is your shuttlecock  Melet. 
Sister is not your weighting wench rich?  Celia. 
Why sister why?  Melet. 
Because she can flatter: prithee call her not,  
She has 24. hours to Madam yet; come you  
You prate i'faith I'll toss you from post to pillar.  Celia. 
You post and I pillar.  Melet. 
No, no, you are the only post, you must support prove a wench and bear, or else all the building of your delight will fall—  Celia. 
Down.  Lyza. 
What must I stand out?  Melet. 
I by my faith till you be married.  Ly. 
Why do you toss then?  Melet. 
Why I am wed wench.  Celea. 
pray to whom.  Melet. 
To the true husband right head of a woman, my will, which vows never to marry till I mean to be a fool, a slave, starch cambric ruffs, and make candles (pur) 'tis down serve again good wench.  Luc. 
By your pleasing cheek you play well.  Melet. 
Nay good creature pree do not flatter me, I thought 'twas for something you go cased in your veluit scabbard, I warrant these laces were near stitched on with true stitch, I have a plain weighting wench she speaks plain, and faith, she goes plain, she is virtuous and because she should go like virtue by the consent of my bounty she shall never have above two smocks to her back, for that's the fortune of desert, & the main in fashion or reward of merit (pur) just thus do I use my servants, I strive to catch them in my racket, and no sooner caught but I toss them away, if he fly well and have good feathers I play with them till he be down, and then my maid serves him to me again, if a slug and weak winged if he be down there let him lie.  Celea. 
Good Mell I wonder how many servants thou hast.  Melet. 
Troth so do I, let me see Dupatzo.  Lyxa. 
Dupatzo which Dupatzo.  Melet. 
Dupatzo the elder brother the fool, he that bought the half penny rib and wearing it in his ear swearing 'twas the duchess of Milan's favour, he into whose head a man may travel 10. leagues before he can meet with his eyes, then there's my chub my Epicure Quadratus, that rubs his guts, claps his paunch & cries Rivo, entertaining my ears perpetually with a most strong discourse of the praise of bottle ale & red Herrings, then there's Simplicius Faber.  Ly. 
Why he is a fool.  Melet. 
True or else he would near be my servant, then there's the cap cloaked Courtier Balthasar he wears a double treble quadruple ruff, I in the summer time, faith I ha' servants enough and I doubt not but by my ordinary pride and extraordinary cunning to get more. monsieur Laverdure with a troop of gallants is entering.  Lyza. 
He capers the lascivious blood about  
Within heart pants, nor leaps the eye nor lips:  
Prepare yourselves to kiss for you must be kissed.  Mel. 
By my troth 'tis a pretty thing to be towards marriage, a pretty loving: look where he comes ha ha.  Lauer. 
Good day sweet love.  Mel. 
Wish her good night man.  Lau. 
God morrow sister.  Mel. 
A curtsy to you caper, tomorrow morn I'll call you brother.  Lauer. 
But much much falls betwixt the cup and lip.  Mel. 
Be not to confident the knot may slip.  Qua. 
Bounty, blessedness, and the spirit of wine attend my Mistress.  Mel. 
Thanks good chub.  Sim. 
God ye god morrow heartily mistress, and how do you since last I saw you.  Qua. 
God's me you must not inquire how she does, that's privy counsel, fie, there's manners indeed.  Si. 
Pray you pardon my incivility, I was somewhat bold with you, but believe me I'll never be so saucy to ask you how you do again, as long as I live la.  Mel. 
Square chub, what sullen black is that.  Qua. 
A tassel that hangs at my purse strings, he dogs me and I give him scraps and pay for his ordinary, feed him, he liquours himself in the juice of my bounty, and when he hath sucked up strength of spirit he squeezeth it in my own face, when I have refined and sharpened his wits with good food, he cuts my fingers, and breaks jests upon me, I bear them, and beat him: but by this light the dull eyed thinks he does well, does very well, and but that he and I are of two faiths— I fill my belly, and feeds his brain, I could find in my heart to hug him, to hug him.  Melet. 
Prithee persuade him to assume spirit and salute us.  Quad. 
Lampatho, Lampatho, art out of countenance, for wits sake salute these beauties, how dost like them?  Lam. 
Uds fut, I can liken them to nothing, but great men's great horse upon great days, whose tails are trust up in silk and silver.  Quad. 
To them man, salute them.  Lam. 
Bless you fair Ladies, God make you all his servants.  Melet. 
God make you all his servants.  Qua. 
He is holpen well had need of you, for be it spoken without profanism he hath more in this train, I fear me you ha' more servants than he, I am sure the Devil is an Angel of darkness.  Lamp. 
ay but those are Angels of light.  Qua. 
Light Angels, prithee leave them, withdraw a little and hear a Sonnet prithee, hear a Sonnet.  Lamp. 
Made of Albanos widow that was, and monsieur laverdure's wife that must be.  Qua. 
Come leave his lips and command some liquour, if you have no Bottle-Ale, command some Claret-wine and borage, for that's my predominate humour sleek billed Bacchus, let's fill thy guts.  Lamp. 
Nay hear it, and relish it judiciously.  Qua. 
I do relish it most judicially. Quad. drinks.  Lamp. 
Adored excellence, delicious sweet.  Qua. 
Delicious sweet good, very good.  Lamp. 
If thou canst taste the purer juice of love.  Qua. 
If thou canst taste the purer juice, good still, good still.  Qua. 
I do relish it, it tastes sweet.  Lamp. 
Is not the metaphor good, be't not well followed?  Qua. 
Passing good, very pleasing.  Lamp. 
be't not sweet.  Qua. 
Let me see't I'll make it sweet,  
I'll soak it in the juice of Helicon.  
by'r Lady, passing sweet, good, passing sweet.  Lamp. 
You wrong my Muse.  Qua. 
The Irish flux upon thy Muse, thy whorish Muse,  
Here is no place for her loose brothelry,  
We will not deal with her, go, away, away,  Lamp. 
I'll be revenged.  Qua. 
How prithee in a play? come, come, be sociable  
In private severance from society,  
Here leaps a vain of blood inflamed with love,  
Mounting to pleasure, all addict to mirth,  
thou'lt read a Satire or a Sonnet now,  
Clagging their airy humour with—  Lam. 
Lamp oil, watch Candles, rug-gowns & small juice,  
Thin commons, four o'clock rising, I renounce you all,  
Now may I ternally abandon meat  
Rust fusty you which most embraced disuse,  
You ha' made me an Ass, thus shaped my lot,  
I am a mere Scholar, that is a mere sot.  Qua. 
Come then Lamp, i'll power fresh Oil into thee,  
Apply thy spirit that it may nimbly turn,  
Unto the habit, fashion of the age,  
I'll make thee man the Scholar, enable thy behaviour,  
Apt for the entertain of any presence:  
I'll turn thee gallant, first thou shalt have a Mistress,  
How is thy spirit raised to yonder beauty?  
She with the sanguine cheek, the dimpled chin,  
The pretty amorous smile that clips her lips,  
And dallies bought her cheek—  
She with the speaking eye,  
That casts out beams as ardent as those flakes,  
Which singed the world by rash brained Phaeton,  
She with the lip, O lips! she for whose sake,  
A man could find in his heart to in-hell himself,  
There's more Philosophy, more theorems,  
More demonstrations, all invincible,  
More clear divinity drawn on her cheek,  
Then in all volumes tedious paraphrase,  
Of musty eld, O who would staggering doubt,  
The soul's eternity, seeing it hath  
Of heavenly beauty, but to case it up,  
Who would distrust a supreme existence,  
Able to confound when it can create,  
Such heaven on earth able to entrance,  
Amaze: O I 'tis providence, not chance.  Lam. 
Now by the front of jove methinks her eye  
Shoots more spirit in me, O beauty feminine!  
How powerful art thou, what deep magic lies  
Within the circle of thy speaking eyes.  Qua. 
Why now could I eat thee, thou dost please mine appetite, I can desist thee, God made thee a good fool, and happy and ignorant, and amorous, and rich and frail, and a Satirist, and an essayist, and sleepy, and proud, and indeed a fool and than thou shalt be sure of all these. Do but scorn her she is thine own, accost her carelessly, and her eye promiseth she will be bound to the good abbearing.  Celia. 
Now sister Meletza dost mark their craft, some straggling thoughts transport thy attentiveness from his discourse, waste Iacomo's or our brother's plot?  Lauer. 
Both, both, sweet Lady, my Page heard all, we met the rogue, so like Albano, I beat the rogue.  Sim. 
ay but when you were gone the rogue beat me.  Lau. 
Now take my counsel, listen.  Melet. 
A pretty youth, a pretty well shaped youth, a good leg, a very good eye, a sweet ingenious face, and I warrant a good wit, nay which is more, if he be poor I assure my soul he is chaste and honest, good faith I fancy, I fancy him, I and I may chance, well I'll think the rest.  Qua. 
I say be careless still, court her without complement take spirit.  Lauer. 
Wert not a pleasing jest for me to clothe  
Another rascal like Albano, say  
And rumor him returned without all deceit,  
Would not beget errors most ridiculous.  Qua. 
Meletza bella belletza, Madonna, bella bella genteletza prithee kiss this initiated gallant.  Melet. 
How would it please you I should respect ye.  Lamp. 
As any thing, What you will as nothing.  Melet. 
As nothing, how will you value my love.  Lamp. 
Why just as you respect me, as nothing, for out of nothing, nothing is bred, so nothing shall not beget anything, anything bring nothing, nothing bring anything, anything & nothing shall be What you will, my speech mounting to the value of myself which is.  Melet. 
What sweet—  Lamp. 
Your nothing light as yourself senseless as your sex, and just as you would ha' me, nothing.  Melet. 
Your wit skips a morisco, but by the brightest spangle of my tier, I vouchsafe you entire unaffected favour, were this gentle spirit be not proud.  
Believe it youth slow speech, swift love doth often shroud.  Lamp. 
My soul's entranced your favour doth transport,  
My sense past sense, by your adored graces,  
I dote, am rapt.  Melet. 
Nay if you fall to passion and past sense,  
My breasts no harbour for your love, go pack, hence.  Qua. 
Uds fut thou gull, thou inky scholar, ha, thou whoreson fop,  
Wilt not thou clap into our fashioned gallantry,  
Couldst not be proud and scornful, loof and vain  
Gods my heart's object, what a plague is this:  
My soul's entranced, fut couldst not clip and kiss,  
My soul's entranced, ten thousand crowns at least  
Lost lost, my soul's entranced, loves life O beast!  Alba. 
Celia open, open Celia, I would enter, open Celia.  Fran. 
Celia, open, open Celia, I would enter open Celia.  Alba. 
What Celia let in thy husband Albano what Celia.  Fran. 
What Celia let in thy husband Albano what Celia  Alba. 
Uds f, f, f, fut let Albano enter.  Fran. 
Uds f, f, f, fut let Albano enter.  Celia. 
Sweet breast you ha' played the wag i'faith.  Qua. 
Believe it sweet not I.  Melet. 
Come you have attired some fiddler like Albano to fright the perfumer, there's the jest.  Ran. 
Good fortunes to our sister.  Melet. 
And a speedy marriage.  Adri. 
Then we must wish her no good fortunes.  jaco. 
For shame, for shame straight clear your house; sweep out this dust, fling out this trash, return to modesty your husband I say your husband Albano that was supposed drowned is returned I and at the door.  Celia. 
Ha ha, my husband, ha ha.  Adri. 
Laugh you, shameless? laugh you?  Celia. 
Come, come, your plots discovered, good faith kinsmen I am no scold: to shape a Perfumer like my husband, O sweet jest.  jaco. 
Last hopes all known.  Celi 
For penance of your fault will you maintain a jest now, my love hath tired some fiddler like Albano, like the Perfumer.  Lau. 
Not I by blessedness not I.  Mel. 
Come 'tis true, do but support the jest and you shall surfeit, with laughter.  jaco. 
Faith we condescend, 'twill not be crossed I see,  
Marriage and hanging go by destiny.  Alba. 
B, b, b, bar out Albano, O Adulterous impudent.  Fran. 
B, b, b, bar out Albano, O thou matchless g, g, g, giglet.  Enter Albano and Francisco. Qua. 
Let them in, let them in, now, now, now observe, observe, look, look, look.  jaco. 
That same's a fiddler, shaped like thee, fear nought, be confident thou shalt know the jest hereafter, be confident; fear nought, blush not, stand firm.  Alba. 
Now brothers, now gallants, now sisters now call a Perfumer a gutter-master, bar me my house, beat me: baffle me, scoff me, deride me, ha that I were a young man again, by the mass I would ha' you all by the ears, by the mass la; I am Francisco Soranza am I not giglet: strumpet, cutters, swaggerers, brothel haunters, I am Francisco, O god, O slaves, O dogs, dogs, curs.  jaco. 
No sir pray you pardon us, we confess you are not Francisco nor a Perfumer, but even.  Alba. 
But even Albano.  jaco. 
But even a fiddler, a minikin tickler, a pum, pum.  Fran. 
A scraper, scraper.  
Art not ashamed before Albanos face,  
To clip his spouse, O shameless impudent!  jaco. 
Well said perfumer.  Alb. 
A fiddler a scraper, a minikin tickler, a pum, a pum, even now a Perfumer, now a fiddler, I will be even What you will, do, do do, k, k, k, kiss my wife be, be, be, be, fore.  Qua. 
Why wouldst have him kiss her behind?  Alba. 
Before my own f, f, f, face.  jaco. 
Well done fiddler.  Alba. 
I'll f, f, fiddle ye.  Fran. 
Dost f, f, flout me.  Alba. 
Dost m, m, m, mock me.  Fran. 
I'll to the Duke I'll p, p, p, paste up infamies on every post.  jaco. 
'twas rarely, rarely done, away, away. Exit Francisco.  Alba. 
I'll f, f, follow, though I st, st, st, stut, i'll stumble to the Duke in p, p, plain language, I pray you use my wife well, good faith she was a kind soul and an honest woman once, I was her husband and was called Albano before I was drowned, but now after my resurrection I an I know not what indeed brothers, and indeed sisters and in deed wife I am: What you will, dost thou laugh, dost thou ge, ge, ge, girn; a p, p, p, perfumer a fiddler, a Diabalo, matre de Dios, I'll f, f, f, firk you by the Lord now, now I will. Exit Albano.  Qua. 
Ha ha 'tis a good rogue, a good rogue.  Lau. 
A good rogue ha, I know him not.  Celia. 
No good sweet love come come dissemble not,  Lau. 
Nay if you dread nothing happy be my lot  
Come Via sest, come fair cheeks, come let's dance,  
The sweets of love is amorous dalliance.  Celia. 
All friends, all happy friends, my veins are light,  Ly. 
Thy prayers are now god send it quickly night.  Melet. 
And then come morning.  Ly. 
I that's the hopeful day.  Mel. 
I there thou hitst it.  Qua. 
Pray God he hit it.  Lau. 
Play.  The Dance. jaco. 
They say there's revels and a Play at Court.  Lau. 
A Play tonight?  Qua. 
I 'tis this gallants wit,  jaco. 
be't good be't good?  Lamp. 
I fear 'twill hardly hit.  Qua. 
I like thy fear, well, 'twill have better chance,  
there's nought more hateful than rank ignorance.  Celia. 
Come gallants the table spread will you to dinner?  Qua. 
Yes first a main at dice and then we'll eat.  Sim. 
Truly the best wits have the bad'st fortune at dice still.  Qua. 
Whole Play, whole play.  Sim. 
Not I, in truth I have still exceeding bad fortune at dice.  Celia. 
Come shall we in, in faith thou art sudden sad,  
Dost fear the shadow of my long dead Lord.  Lauer, 
Shadow ha' I cannot tell  
Time trieth all things well. well, well.  Qua. 
Would I were time then, I thought 'twas for some thing that the old fornicator was bald behind; go pass on pass on.  Exeunt.   

ACT. 5.  

SCAE. 1.  The Curtains are drawn by a Page, and Celia and Laverdure, Quadratus, and Lyzabetta, Lampatho and Meletza Simplicius, and Lucea displayed sitting at Dinner. The Song is sung, during which a Page whispers with Simplicius. Qua. 
Feed and be fat my fair Calipolis,  
Rivo here's good juice, fresh Burrage boy?  Lam. 
I commend, commend myself to ye Lady.  Melet. 
In troth Sir you dwell far from neighbours that are enforced to commend yourself.  Qua. 
Why Simplicius, whether now man, for good fashion's sake stir not, fit still, sit still.  Sim. 
I must needs rise, much good do it you.  Qua. 
Dost thou think thy rising will do them much good, sit still, sit still, carve me of that good Melletza: fill Bacchus fill.  Sim. 
I must needs be gone, and you'll come to my Chamber tomorrow morning, I'll send you a hundred crowns.  Qua. 
In the name of Prosperity, what tide of happiness so suddenly is flowed upon thee.  Sim. 
I'll keep a horse and four boys with grace of fortune now.  Qua. 
Now then i'faith get up and ride.  Sim. 
And I do not? I'll thwack a jerkin till he groan again with Gold lace: let me see, what should I desire of God, mary a Cloak lined with rich Taffeta, white Satin suit, and my gilt Rapier from pawn, nay she shall give me a Chain of Pearl that shall pay for all, good boy, good signior, good boy, good signior.  Qua. 
Why now, thou speaketh in the most embraced fashion that our time hugs, no sooner a good fortune, or a fresh suit falls upon a fellow that would ha' been gulled to ha' should into your society, but and he met you he fronts you with a faint eye, throws asquint glance over a wried shoulder and cries twixt the teeth, as very parsimonious of breath, good boy, good signior, good boy, good signior death: I will search the life blood of your hopes.  Sim. 
And a fresh Pearl-colour silk stocking oh IIII, I'll go to the half crown ordinary every meal, I'll have my ivory box of Tobacco, I'll converse with none but Counts and Courtiers— now good boy, good signior, a pair of massy silver Spurs, to a hatch short sword, and then your embroidered hanger, and good signior.  Qua. 
Shut the windows, darken the room, fetch whips, the fellow is mad, he raves, he raves, talks idly, lunatic, who procures thy—  Sim. 
One that has eat fat Capon, sucked the boiled Chicken, & let out his wit with the fool of bounty, one Fabius, i'll scorn him, he goes upon Fridaies in black satin.  Qua. 
Fabius, by this light, a cogging cheater, he lives on love of merchants wives, he stands on the base, of maines, he furnisheth your ordinary, for which he feeds scotfree, keeps fair gold in his purse, to put on upon maines, by which he lives and keeps a fair boy at his heels, he is damned Fabius.  Sim. 
He is a fine man la, and has a good wit for when he list he can go in black Satin, I and in a cloak lined with unshorn Velvet.  Qua. 
By the salvation of humanity he's more pestilent than the plague of Lice that fell upon Egypt, thou hast been knave if thou credit it, thou art an Ass if thou follow it, & shalt be a perpetual Idiot if thou pursue it, renounce the world, the flesh, the Devil, and thy trust in men's wives for they will double with thee, and so I betake myself to the sucking of the juice Capon, my ingle Bottle-ale, & his Gentleman usher that squires him red herring, a fool I found thee & a fool I leave thee, bear record heaven 'tis against the providence of my speech, God boy good signior.  Enter Slip Nows, doit, and Bydet. Exit. Sim. 
Ha, ha, ha, God boy good signior, what a fool 'tis, ha, ha, what an Ass 'tis, save you young Gentlemen, is she coming, will she meet me, shall's encounter ha?  Byd. 
You were not leapt in your Mother's smock, you ha' not a good cheek, an enticing eye, a smooth skin, a well shaped leg, a fair hand, you cannot bring a wench into a fools paradise for you?  Sim. 
Not I by this garter, I am a fool, a very Ninny I, how call you her? how call you her?  Byd. 
Call her, you rise on your right side today marry, call her, her name is Mistress Perpetuana, she is not very fair, nor goes extraordinary gay.  Sim. 
She has a good skin?  Byd. 
A good skin? she is wealthy, her husbands a fool, she'll make you, she wears the breeches: she'll make you.  Sim. 
I'll keep two men and they shall be Tailors, they shall make suits continually, and those shall be cloth of silver.  Byd. 
You may go in beaten precious Stones every day, marry I must acquaint you with some observances which you must pursue most religiously, she has a fool, a natural fool weights on her, that is indeed her pander to him, at the first you must be bounteous, whatsoever he craves, be it your Hat, Cloak, Rapier, Purse, or such trifle, giv't, giv't, the night will pay all: and to draw all suspect, from pursuing her love for base gain sake.  Sim. 
giv't by this light, I'll giv't, wert, gain, I care not for her Chain of Pearl, only her love; gain? the first thing her bounty shall fetch is my blush colour Satin suit from pawn: gain?  Byd. 
When you hear one wind a Cornet, she is coming down Saint Marks street, prepare your speech, suck your lips, lighten your spirits, fresh your blood, sleek your cheeks, for now thou shalt be made for ever (a perpetual and eternal gull) Exit Bydet.  Sim. 
I shall so ravish her with my courtship, I have such variety of discourse, such copy of phrase to begin, as this; sweet Lady Ulysses Dog after his Masters ten years travel, I shall so tickle her, or thus, Pure beauty there is a stone.  Slip. 
Two stones man.  Sim. 
Called, 'tis no matter what; I ha' the eloquence, I am not to seek I warrant you. The Cornet is winded, Enter Pippo Bydet, Pippo attired like a Merchant's wife, and Bydet like a fool .Sweet Lady Ulysses dog, there's a stone called—, O Lord what shall I say.  Slip. 
Is all your eloquence come to this?  Sim. 
The glorious radiant of your glimmering eyes, your glittering beauties blind my wit, and dazzled my—  Pippo. 
I'll put on my mask and please you, pray you wink, pray you.  Bidet. 
O fine man, my mistress loves you best, I dreamed you ga' me this sword and dagger, I love your Hat and Feather, O.  Sim. 
Do not cry man, do not cry man, thou shalt ha' them I and they were—  Bydet. 
O that purse with all the white pence in it, fine man I love you, give you the fine red pence soon at night, he, I thank you where's the fool now?  Sim. 
He has all my money, I have to keep myself, and—  Slip. 
Poght.  Pippo. 
Sir the fool shall lead you to my house, the fool shall not, at night I expect you, till then take this seal of my affection.  Within Qua. 
What Simplicius.  Sim. 
I come Quadratus, Gentlemen as yet I can but thank you, but I must be trusted for my ordinary soon at night, or stay I'll— the fool has unfurnished me, but 'twill come again, good boy.  Within, Qua. 
What ho Simplicius?  Sim. 
Good boy, good boys, I come, I come, good boys, good boys.  Byd. 
The fool shall weight on thee, Now do I merit to be yclept Bosphoros Carmelydon Honorificacuminos Bydett, who who has any square Dice?  Pippo. 
Marry Sir that have I.  Byd. 
Thou shalt lose thy share for it in our purchase.  Pippo. 
I pray you now, pray you now.  Byd. 
Sooner the whistle of a Mariner,  
Shall sleek the rough curbs of the Ocean back,  
Now speak I like myself thou shalt lose thy share.  Enter Quadratus, Laverdure and Celia, Simplicius Meletza, Lyzabetta Lucea and Lampatho. Pip. 
Ha take all then, ha.  Qua. 
Without cloak or hat or rapier sigh,  Sim. 
God's me, look yonder, who gave you these things?  Byd. 
Mistress Perpetuano's fool.  Sim. 
Mistress Perpetuano's fool, ha, ha, there lies a jest, signior the fool promised me he would not leave me.  Byd. 
I know the fool well, he will stick to you, does not use to forsake any youth that is enamoured on another man's wife, he strives to keep company with a crimson satin suit continually, he loves to be all one with a critic, a good wit self conceited, a hawk bearer, a dog keeper, and great with the nobility, he dotes upon a mere scholar an honest flat fool, but above all he is all one with a fellow whose cloak hath a better inside then his outside, and his body richer lined than his brain.  Sim. 
Uds so I am cozened.  Pip. 
Pray you master pardon me, I must lose my share.  Sim. 
Give me my purse again.  Byd. 
You gave it me and I'll kept.  Qua. 
Well done my honest crack thou shalt be my ingle for't.  Lau. 
He shall keep all maugre thy beardless chin thy eyes.  Sim. 
I may go starve till Midsummer quarter.  Qua. 
Fool get thee hence,  Pip. 
I'll to school again that I will, I left in Ass in presenti, and I'll begin in Ass in presenti and so good night fair gentry.  Exit Pippo. Qua. 
The triple idiot's coxcomb crowns thee,  
Bitter epigrams confound thee.  
cuckold be when ere thou bride thee,  
Through every comic scene be drawn,  
Never come thy clothes from pawn.  
Never may thy shame be sheathed,  
Never kiss a wench sweet breathed.  Cornets sound. Enter as many Pages with Torches as you can, Randolfo and Adrian, jacomo bore, the Duke with attendants. Ran. 
Seance the Duke approacheth 'tis almost night,  
For the duke's up, now begins his day  
Come grace his entrance; lights lights now gins our play.  Duk. 
Still these same bawling pipes, sound softer strains  
Slumber our sense, tut these are vulgar strains,  
Cannot your trembling wires throw a chain  
Of powerful rapture 'bout our mazed sense  
Why is our chair thus cushioned tapestry  
Why is our bed tired with wanton sports?  
Why are we clothed in glistering attires,  
If common bloods can hear, can, feel,  
Can sit as soft, lie as lascivious  
Stut all as rich as the greatest Potentate,  
Soul, and you cannot feast my thirsting ears  
With aught but what the lip of common birth can taste,  
Take all away your labours idly waste  
What sport for night.  Lam. 
A Comedy, entitled Temperance.  Duk. 
What sot elects that subject for the Court,  
What should dame Temperance do here, away,  
The itch on Temperance your moral play.  Qua. 
Duke, Prince, royal blood, thou that hast the best means to be damned of any Lord in Venice, thou great man, let me kiss thy flesh, I am fat and therefore faithful, I will do that which few of thy subjects do; love thee, but I will never do, that which all thy subjects do; flatter thee, thy humours real, good, a Comedy?  
No and thy sense would banquet in delights,  
appropriate to the blood of Emperors;  
Peculiar to the state of Majesty,  
That none can relish but dilated greatness.  
Vouchsafe to view the structure of a scene  
That stands on tragic solid passion,  
O that's fit traffic to commerce with births:  
Strained from the mud of base unable brains,  
Give them a scene may force their struggling blood  
Rise up on tiptoe in attention,  
And fill their intellect with pure elixed wit,  
O that's for greatness apt, for Princes fit.  Duke. 
darest thou then undertake to suit our ears,  
With such rich vestment.  Qua. 
Dare; yes my Prince I dare, nay more, I will,  
And I'll present a subject worth thy soul:  
The honoured end of Cato Utican.  Duk. 
who'll personate him.  Qua. 
Marry that will I on sudden without change.  Duk. 
Thou want'st a beard.  Qua. 
Tush a beard near made Cato, though many men's Cato hang only on their chin.  
Suppose this flower the City utica,  
The time the night that prolonged Cato's death:  
Now being placed 'mong his Philosophers,  
These first discourse the soul's eternity.  jaco. 
Cato grants that I am sure, for he was valiant, and honest, which an Epicure near was, and a coward never will be.  Qua. 
Then Cato holds a distinct notion,  
Of individual actions after death:  
This being argued his resolve maintains,  
A true magnanimous spirit should give up dirt  
To dirt, and with his own flesh dead his flesh,  
Fore chance should force it crouch unto his foe:  
To kill one's self some I, some hold it no,  
O these are points would entice away ones soul:  
To breaks indenture of base prentisage, Enter Francisco.  
And run away from's body in swift thoughts  
To melt in contemplation luscious sweets,  
Now my voluptuous Duke i'll feed thy sense,  
Worth his creation: give me audience.  Fran. 
My liege my royal liege, hear, hear my suit.  Qua. 
Now may thy breath near smell sweet as long as thy lungs can pant for breaking my speech, thou Muscovite, thou stinking perfumer.  Enter Albano. Duke. 
Is not this Albano our some times Courtier?  Fran. 
No troth but Francisco your always perfumer.  Alba. 
Lorenzo Celso our brave Venice Duke, Albano Belletzo, thy Merchant, thy soldier, thy Courtier, thy slave, thy anything, thy What thou wilt, kisseth thy noble blood, do me right or else I am canonised a cuckold, canonised a cuckold, I am abused, I am abused, my wife's abused, my clothes abused, my shape, my house my all abused, I am sworn out of myself, beated out of myself baffled, jeered at, laughed at, barred my own house, debarred my own wife, whilst others swill my wines, gormandize my meat, meat, kiss my wife, O gods, O gods, O gods, O gods, O gods.  Lauer. 
Who be't? who be't?  Celia. 
Come sweet this is your waggery i'faith, as if you knew him not.  La. 
Yes I fear I do too well, would I could slide away invisible.  Duke. 
Assured this is he.  jaco. 
My worthy liege the jest comes only thus.  
Now to stop and cross it with mere like deceit:  
All being known the French knight hath disguised,  
A fiddler like Albano too, to fright the perfumer, this is all.  Duke. 
Art sure 'tis true.  Melet. 
'tis confessed 'tis right.  Alba. 
It is right, 'tis true, right, I am a fiddler, a fiddler, a fiddler uds fut a fiddler; I'll not believe thee thou art a woman, and 'tis known veritas non querit angulos, truth seeks not to lurk under farthingales, veritas non querit angulos, a fiddler?  Lau. 
Worthy sir pardon, and permit me first to confess yourself, your deputation dead hath made my love live, to offend you.  Alba. 
ay, mock on, scoff on, flout on, do do do.  Lau. 
Troth sir in serious.  Alba. 
I good, good, come hither Celia,  
Burst breast, rive heart asunder? Celia  
Why startest thou back: seest thou this Celia  
O me how often with lascivious touch thy lip,  
Hath kissed this mark? how oft this much wronged breast  
Hath borne the gentle weight of thy soft cheek?  Celia. 
O me my dearest Lord, my sweet, sweet love.  Alba. 
What a fiddler, a fiddler? now thy love.  
I am sure thou scornest; it nay Celia, I could tell  
What on the night before I went to sea,  
And took my leave with Hymeneal rights  
What, thou lisped  
Into my ear, a fiddler and perfumer now.  Adri. 
And—  Ran. 
Dear brother.  jaco. 
Most respected signior,  
Believe it by the sacred end of love,  
What much, much wrong hath forced your patience  
Proceeded from most dear affied love,  
Devoted to your house.  Adri. 
Believe it brother.  jaco. 
Nay yourself when you shall hear the occurrences will say 'tis happy, comical.  Ran. 
Assure thee brother.  Alba. 
Shall I be brave, shall I be myself now, love, give me thy love, brothers give me your breasts, French knight reach me thy hand, perfumer thy fist. Duke I invite thee, love I forgive thee: Frenchman I hug thee, I'll know all, i'll pardon all, and I'll laugh at all.  Qua. 
And i'll curse you all.  
O ye ha' interrupt a scene.  Duke. 
Quadratus we will hear these points discussed,  
With apter and more calm affected hours.  Qua. 
Well, good, good.  Alba 
Wast even so i'faith why then capricious mirth,  
Skip light moriscoes in our frolic blood,  
Flagged veins, sweet, plump with fresh infused joys:  
Laughter pucker our cheeks, make shoulders shog,  
With chucking lightness, love once more thy lips,  
For ever clasp our hands, our hearts, our Crests,  
Thus front, thus eyes, thus cheek, thus all shall meet.  
Shall clip, shall hug, shall kiss, my dear, dear sweet,  
Duke wilt thou see me revel, come love dance,  
Court gallants court; suck amorous dalliance.  Lam. 
Beauty your heart.  Melet. 
First sir accept my hands.  
she leaps too rash, that falls in sudden bands.  Lam. 
Shall I despair? never will I love more.  Melet. 
No sea so boundless vast but hath ashore.  Qua. 
Why marry me.  
Thou canst have but soft flesh, good blood, sound bones.  
And that which fills up all your bracks, good stones.  Lyzabet. 
Stones, Trees and beasts in love still firmer prove,  
Than man, I'll none no holdfasts in your loves.  Lau. 
Since not the Mistress, come on Faith the maid:  Alba. 
Ten thousand Ducats too to boat are laid.  Lau. 
Why then wind Cornets, lead on jolly lad.  Alla. 
Excuse me gallants though my legs lead wrong.  
'Tis my first footing, wind out nimble tongue.  Duke. 
'Tis well, 'tis well, how shall we spend this night?  Qua. 
Gulp Rhenish Wine my liege, let our paunch rent,  
Suck merry jellies, preview but not prevent  
No mortal can the miseries of life.  Alba. 
I home invite you all, come sweet, sweet wife,  
My liege vouchsafe thy presence, drink till the ground look blue, boy.  Qua. 
Live still springing hopes, still in fresh new joys,  
May your loves happy hit in fair cheeked wives,  
Your flesh still plump with sapped restoratives,  
That's all my honest frolic heart can wish,  
A Fico for the mew and Envious pish,  
Till night, I wish good food and pleasing day,  
But then found rest so ends or slight writ play. Exeunt.  Deo op: max gratias.   
FINIS.