ANAIDES

Is that thy boy, HEDON? S'hart, Ill geld him; I warrant he has the philosophers stone. Pray thee, let's hear them. No (dam' me then) I have more oaths then I know how to utter, by this air. Yes, for the person it's applied to, a lady. It should be light, and— Well, you traveled for that, HEDON. How is that? Oh, assure your soul. I have thought upon one for MORIA, of a sudden too, if it take. Marry, I will come to her, (and she always wears a muff, if you be remembered) and I will tell her, Madame, your whole self cannot but be perfectly wise: for your hands have wit enough to keep themselves warm. Oh, (by HERCULES) it's your only dish, above all your pota to's, or oyster-pies in the world. I'll be your prophet. By gods so, it will be most exquisite, thou art a fine inventious Rogue, sirrah. Tut, they'll do that, when they come to sleep on them time e nough; but were thy devices never in the presence yet, HEDON? It good we went afore then, and brought them acquainted with the room where they shall act, lest the stratagems of it put them out of countenance, when they should come forth. Nay, be not impatient, HEDON. Hang him, poor grogran-rascall, pray thee think not of him: I'll send for him to my lodging, and have him blanketed when thou wilt, man. Fough, he smells all lamp-oyle, with studying by candlelight. I, a pox on him, let him go, dormouse: he is in a dream now. He has no other time to sleep, but thus, when he walks abroad, to take the air. 'Slid, (my deer envy ) if thou but sayest the word now, I'll un do him eternally for thee. Marry half a score of us get him in (one night) and make him pawn his wit for a supper. Unless 'twere Lent, Ember weeks , or Fasting days , when the place is most penuriously empty of all other good outsides. Dam' me, if I should adventure on his company once more, without a suit of buff, to defend my wit; he does nothing but stab the slave: how mischievously he crossed thy device of the prophesy there? And MORIA, she comes without her muff too, and there my invention was lost. What, my good spirituous spark? Before God, most courtly. At any hand beware of that, so thou mayest draw thine own judgement in suspect. No, I'll instruct thee what thou shalt do, and by a safer means: Approve any thing thou hearest of his, to the received opi nion of it; but if it be extraordinary, give it from him to some other, whom thou more particularly affectest. That's the way to plague him, and he shall never come to defend himself. S'lud, I'll give out, all he does is di ctated from other men, and swear it too (if thou'lt ha'mee) and that I know the time, and place where he stole it, though my soul be guilty of no such thing; and that I think, out of my heart, he hates such barren shifts: yet to do thee a pleasure, and him a disgrace, I'll dam'my self, or do any thing. Farewell, HEDON. 'Slight, what should I do here? and you engross them all for your own use, it's time for me to seek out. Faith, you might have sp rde us Madame Prudence , the Guardian there, though you had more covetously aimed at the rest. I, say you so? nay, then, have at them: ladies, here's one hath distinguished you by your names already. It shall only become me, to ask, How you do? Lady Wisdom , do you interpret for these puppets? Dost thou know him that saluted thee, HEDON? S'lud, I never saw him till this morning, and he salutes me as fa miliarly, as if we had known together, since the deluge, or the first year of Troy -Actium. White-livered. Why? 'shart, are not their linings white? beside, when they come in swaggering company, and will pocket up any thing, may they not properly be said to be white-livered? Why, in a pair of pained slops. In a pair of pained slops, Pray VENUS, my whore have not discovered her self to the ras cally hoys, and that be the cause of their stay. As sure as fate, it is so; she has opened all: A pox of all cocka trices. Dam'me, if she have played lose with me, I'll cut her throat, within a hairs breadth, so it may be healed again. S'lood, what have you to do? A pox upon your filthy trauai ling face, hold your tongue. Away, muske-cat. Sir, you with the pencil on your chin; I will garter my hose with your guts, and that shall be all. Nay, good punk, sweet rascal; dam' me, if I am iea lous now. Why, do you hear, mother MORIA. Heart! Swear? why? S'lood, I have sworn afore now, I hope. Both you and your daughter mistake me. I have not honoured ARETE, that is held the worthiest lady in court (next to CYNTHIA) with half that ob seruance, and respect, as I have done her in private, howsoever outward lie I have carried my self careless, and negligent. Come, you are a foe lish, punk , and know not when you are well employed. Kiss me, come on. Do it, I say. Come, gallants, you must pardon my foolish humour: when I am angry, that any thing crosses me, I grow impatient straight. Here, I drink to you. S'lood, this water is the spirit of wine, I'll be hanged else. Death, what talk you of his learning? he understands no more then a schoolboy; I have put him down my self a thousand times (by this air) and yet I never talked with him but twice, in my life: you never saw his Like. I could never get him to argue with me, but once, and then, because I could not construe and Author I quoted at first sighed, he went away, and laughed at me. By HERCULES, I scorn him, as I do the sod den Nymph, that was here even now, his mistress ARETE: And I love my self for nothing else. I am easily entreated to grace any of your friends, AMORPHUS. So it must for me, too. For I am not ashamed to take it. And my cockatrice , here. Is there any body come to answer him? Shall we have any sport. Heart! why should not we be Master's, aswell as he? No, no, she has the more liberty for her self. A pox on't. Your vulgar will count this fabulous, and im pudent, now: by that candle, they'le never conceit it. Oh, it's too worser tch. He reels too much. I, and he is a scholar beside. You may disgrace him here, with authority. Content, and not look of the other. And commend us to you, sir. This hath discountenanced our scholaris , most richly. Heart! he is a fool, I see. We have done our selves wrong to grace him. 'Sfoot, the carp ha no tongue. This is that black devil there. And his hat was carried skiruily. True, it is the french curteau: He lacks but to have his nose slit. 'Sfoot, he makes a face Like a stabbed LUCRECE. S'lud, it's the horse-start out of the brown study. Speak, Guardian. Name the prize , at the bore Accost. Give the Monsieur. AMORPHUS hath lost his eyes. How now, sir? Tie up your tongue, Mongrel. He cannot ap peal. Sir you still, sir. Hang them. I'll not venture a doibt of discretion , on either of their heads.— I Like none of their plays. It's too full of uncertain motion. He hobbles too much. Hang him, neglect him. That puff was good indeed. Good play; but it is too rough, and boisterous. This is silthie, and graven, now. Boe-peepe. Heart, he will overrun her! What's the prize , lady, at this better Reguard? They have done doubtfully. Divide. Give the favourable Face to the Signior , and the light wave to the Monsi ur. I, this is pretty. 'Sfoot, we must use our tailors thus. This is your true magnam nimitie. Monsieur, Signior , your solemn Address is too long. The la die long to have you come on. Your french Beat is the most natural beat of the world. Fair play, Monsieur? you are too hight on the quarry. Give your competitor audience. A good stroke; That mouth was excellently put over. Admirable. Give him the prize. Give him the prize ; That mouth, again, was most courtly hit, and rare. Name the prize , at the solemn Address. Give to AMORPHUS. And, upon him, again; let him not draw free breath. So are most of them once a year. Heart of my blood. AMORPHUS, what have you done? Stuck a disgrace upon us all, and at your last weapon? Luck! by that candle, it was mere rashness, and oversight, would any man have venterd to play so open, and forsake his ward? Dam' me if he have not eternally undone himself, in court; and discountenanced us, that were his main countenance, by it. Stay, Monsieur. Who awards you the prize? That's not in your logic to determine, sir: you are no cour tire. This is none of your seven, or nine beggarly sciences , but a cer taine mystery above them, wherein we that have skill must pronounce, and not such freshmen as you are. With me? Heart, I shall never have such a fortune to save my self in a fell low again, and your two reputations, gentlemen, as in this. I'll under take him. Let me alone, I'll play other manner of play, then has been seen, yet. I would the prize lay on't. Are you so confident? what's your weapon? Content, I'll pay your scholarity. Who offers? You dare? Well, look to your liberal sconce. Hold your peace, you are a hobbyhorse. When begin you, sir? Have you consulted? I, hereafter you may: and it will not be altogether and ungrate full study. For, let your soul be assured of this (in any rank, or professi on whatever) the more general, or Mayor partly of opinion goes with the face, and (simply) respects nothing else. Therefore, if that can be made exactly, curiously, exquisitely, thoroughly, it is enough: But (for the pre sent) you shall only apply your self to this face of the elementary cour tire, a light, revelling, and protesting face, now blushing, now smiling, which you may help much with a wanton wagging of your head, thus, (a feather will teach you) or with kissing your inger that hath the ruby, or playing with some string of your band, which is a most quaint kind of melancholy beside: or (if among ladies) laughing loud, and crying up your own wit, though perhaps borrowed, it is not amiss. Where is your page? call for your casting-bottle, and place your mirror in your hat, as I told you: so. Come, look not pale, observe me, set your face, and enter. Heart! who l to in that rag there, amongst us? put him out, and impecunious creature. Death, disgrace this fellow in the black-stuff, what ever you do.