TERENTIA

With interest of thanks to Cicero, Nay, stay good Flaviam, Yowl not lose the sighed of Lentulus. Go to, yowl still be a wag Flaviam. But what says Tulley to Terentia? I have no power of Metamorphosing, If Tulley be not here, you must conceal, I cannot make of Tulley Lentulus. But if thereto his daughter not accord, That grant is canceled, father's may command, Life before love, for life to true love's paund. What heavy string dost thou divide upon? Wrong not him, wrong not me, wrong not thy self, Where didst thou learn that doleful mandrakes note, To kill the hearers? Tully, Canst thou not endure a little danger for my love? The fiery spleen of and angry Father, Who Like a storm will soon consume it self, I have endure a thousand jarring hours, Since first he did mistrust my fancies aim: And will endure a thousand thousand more, If life or discord either live so long. Why Flaviam you have many suitors. Better and better. The Traitor lives while I have breath to spend, Then let me die to satisfy your will. Will it please Flaviam to partake? Tully. If Tully be her Leader. And why not Tully? Speak still if thou wilt, but not for him, The more thou speakest, the more augments my love, If that thou canst add more to infinite, The more thou speakest, the more decreaseth his, If thou canst take away, ought from nothing, Think Tulley, if Lentulus can love me, So much and more, Terentia does love thee. As he is friend, we will entreat his love, As he is great, his threatenings shall not make me love. Well, when Flaminius see's no remedy, Lord how woman Like are men, when they are woe'd? Tully, weigh me not light, never did immodest blush Colour these cheeks, but ardent. Take heed you sighs not, nor look read at the ta ble Tully. Go to, you are a wanton Flaviam. I want one indeed Wench, but thou hast two, and the gentle destinies may send thee three, never blush: for smoke and the fire of a woman's love cannot be hid. o a fine tongue, dipped in Helicon, a comedian tongue is the only persuasive ornament to win a Lady, why his discourse is as pleasant— And keeps as good decorum; his prologue with obedience to the skirt, a rough Scene of civil Wars, with a clapping conclusion, perhaps a Jig, if not the Tragicomical Tale of Mars and Venus, then must she take the Tale by the end, where he defending Mars, & she Venus, must fallen from billing to biting, from biting to blows, to get the supremacy. Faith a Soldier is not for thy humour, now I cry a Warrior, he fights stoutly in a field bed, discharges his work sure, under his Curtains would I fight, but come, our Lovers melt while we meditate; thou for thy scholar, I for my fouldier: and if we cannot please them so, weel shake off this lose habit, and turn Pages to please their humours. Exeunt. Enough Tully, we are discovered. It wants a sillible. Just to the height of Terentias heart, Where I will keep and Character that name, And to that name my heart shall add that love, That shall weigh down the worth of Lentulus. Then noble Cicero. Gentle is as good, Then say the best of gentle Cicero. What ails my Tully, wherefore lookest thou sad? What discontent hath stopped the crimson current Which ran so cheerfully within that brow, And makes it sullen Like a standing pool? Tell me, who is't hath wrong my Cicero? Who is it then that wrongs my Tully so? What hath Terentia ought offended thee? Dost thou recall thy former promises? Dost thou repent thee of— What hath my Father done this injury? There, there, thy thoughts accord to say 'tis so, I will deny him then, he's not my father, He's not my friend will envy Cicero. Here comes Lord Lentulus. My thoughts are plunged in admiration. Thus far my love, our Hope's have good success, One storm more passed, my griefs were much the less. Virtue is rich and blots a poor disgrace.