PHYSICA

Who was that? I, who was it? that's the question I ask. Yes, it pleases me to know, though I fear when I do know it will scarce please me. O, is the excuse made now? Well, now I hope forsooth, so many forsooths have made up one excuse by this time. Yet again? That came to teach you manners belike, and that's the reason you use so many mannerly forsooths. To a Banquet? Indeed you are better fed then taught. Nay, that's not strange, nowadays, for the nee rer kin, the farther off in friendship, and therefore the greater strangers. As you do now for your Self: but Minion do you expect a thank of me, for your excuse? I believe ra there, yowl stand more in need of and excuse your self; it seems your are well skilled in the framing of them. What? who bid you put on this apparel to day? you must be in your sky-coloured Gown every day, in your best apparel holy-days and working-days: and had you never a worse head-tyre to put on to day but this with coloured Ribbons tied Like Stars? but, Minion, the mystery of the truth; come, I must know it: Does your Uncle Ethicus look of that fashi on? is he a Courtier? a Traveler? a Puppet? does he make himself a verier Fool then the Tailor makes him? has he a Jury of Nations come in to give their verdict, for the making up of one suit of apparel for him? is he for your long Hat, short Cloak, little Band? are his old hammes grown sup ple again? is he for your knee-congey? the throwing of a wavering head off his shoulders in a salutation? or the brea king of his high-heeld Shoes, or (which is better) some times of his crazy legs, when in a wanton pride they cannot stand upon his giddy feet? you'd make a fine creature of your Uncle; but, my fine Minion, my Periphrasis has encircled your companion, as his arms did your middle even now: you apprehend? ah Astronomia, thy face was never made for the colouring of a lie; o how this one untruth has Eclipsed thy beauty? thou never receivedst such a vile Nature from thy Mother Physica: no; no; I know from whom this corruption proceeds; it's that false, that vile Astrologiam, that infects thee thus, and whom I observe, still to follow at thy heals: but I fret mine old age too much, which is enough anguish to it self: in, in you light Huswife—. Exeunt. LEt Geometres never use Measure more, if he loves not his dearest Magus beyond measure: O, the Gods! that you and I could never know one another before! but First it should be my luck to be acquainted with Astronomia, Then with your Self! Sir, if your occasions can make use of my best endeavours, the employment shall be a favour: if at a nigh time you want any Characters, and strange Figures for your Circles, or Circles themselves, for the confining of your Spirits, know Sir, They shall not be more obedient unto You, then My officious gratitude, employ Me Sir, I protest I'm grown Infinite in love with the fairest Astronomia, with your self. And grant that the sweet Fairies may nightly put money in your shoes Sir. And make you the rich husband of many wives. The gods of the night send you happy dreams. And that the horse-shoo may never be pulled from your threshold. That your nose may never bleed only three drops at a time. That you may never stumble at your going out in the morning. We are indeed from Egypt-land, an't please your good vrship: Brother, by the Ruffian, I think this is a quire cove, he cuts such quire whidds: Good Sir, if you be a Gentry cove, vouchsafe some small Win or but a Make, for we have neither Lower, nor Libbeg, nor Libkin. Good Gentry cove vouchsafe us a little Lower, or some old Duddes, as a Castir or a Commission. Ah your good vrship! it is the Gypsy language: the vrship of the gods bless your fair Glasiers, and look out with your merciful eyes. Somewhat towards a meals meat, Well and Wise lie bestow upon us, and the Go-ads reward you for't. Good Sir give but a cup of your best drink well and wisely. The gods save the King and his counsel, and the governors of this place; you shall have a fair wife Master, and many children. Physiognomus, good Master. We can tell the will of the Heavens good Master; we can tell your fortune, Master. What will he do? It's so great 'twoun't come out. Well said faith, I perceive there is some remem brance of ones friends in Wine. Sure, Magus, you han't charmed him well. See what's in his pocket. Cheiro mantes takes out a purse and looks in it. We thank you Choler, we shall be even with you, an't come to our turn. I can tell you Choler, you had almost missed this same time too. Well, to my task, since it's my luck. Sanguis and Melancholico met, because one's cold and dry, and the other's hight, and sufficiently moist: Choler and Phlegmatico (have at you Choler ) are Like a flapdragon, or a piece of bred sopt in Aquavitae, and then set afire— And Musicam met with Cheiromantes, because the hand in this sense, in respect of Music, may most justly be called the Instrument of instruments: and therefore most fit lie to be coupled with it. Come, run again. He looks as if he would give profound ones. What is't? I protest, I never perceived, when thou didst nimbe them. Tush, I'll but paint my Face afterwards. Nay, I must needs approve of such commendable parts in him; but I have ever thought your Travellers Like un to Meteors which wander in the Air, and their love in parti cular Like the shooting star, which only lasts till the fire is spent, and then falls down again with a swift precipitation: but I'm sure my Astronomia is of a more Fixed desire. He must, and shall then turn away his man Phan tastes, that has incited him to entertain all his uncertain courses. I will. Well, your wishes and my counsels will work up on him, I trust; and I'll be sure, he shall never stir abroad, but Astronomia still shall have and eye to him. And with joy, thanks to the gods and most honoured Polites. Enter PHANT.