RANOFF

And you sweet Seignior—It's very precious hight, I protest I have been cooler under the Line. I would we might command some Drink here. This Lord has a most dulcid situation, pleasant, and profitable, I have seldom seen in Venice a sweeter. I cannot tell indeed, I did not mark them. I cannot tell, I never had much conversation with your people of Hybla, my noble Lord. Your Lordship's Jennet in my conceit is a most understanding Beast. I saw the Adlantatho of Domingo mounted upon such another, not much different, nay surely nothing at all; and I donnot think but they were twins, only I think your Lordship's the better. Your Lordship keeps the Saddle admirable, I would your Lordship had been with me at Japan, I speak it for Horses sake, and H semanship toga there; I protest they are the best Riders, if I said the Rankest, I did not lie: for believe it, I hold your Rank Rider a good Rider, take him always, and at all times: As your Frenchman, in Christendom I donnot know a ranker Rider, unless it be some partly North, there they are Scourers. Your Lordship has a most neat Ruff, and becomes you most elegantly. Will your Lordship conduct? Fair gentle Milk maid. Good; a Wench of Language: by this hand I love thee. That's all one, I protest I love thee, How whi one? sorry for't? sorry-that I, whom Ladies languish for, repine, and die? You now betray your rudeness; I am angry. Udfoot, and my Dagger had not been rusty, that I might have drawn it with credit, I'ld a stuck it in the middle of your Milk Pale, foolish, scurvy, course-kersie, dirty-tailed, dangling dug Cow: A Gentleman Cour tire and Traveller, whose feet ha measured the Alps, and be disgraced in a piece of unplowed Pasture. I have lighted upon one of the Egyptian Idols, taught Callow stro king up his hair, comple ments with Fa ces and Legs. with some Engine to put off his Hat, and screw his Face a little: I cannot speak to it Like a man, yet I will talk to it as if it were one. How came you hither Sir, pray did you ride, or were you drawn in a Cart? Nay, believe it my Lord, they are a brace of the rudest Baubees that ever drew or sucked the Milk of In nocence. Foolish Wench I tell thee he is a Lord, and I am little less my self, if I were in place where: what dost thou know, but I may be the Duke? Why, it had been all one to thee, thou hadst called me Ass. Ah, she begins to balance me. And how do you find me now? Oh, in good time, we shall agree anon.— The Duke— I am glad my Lord was mealmouth when she was a Milkmaid, I am sure he gave her no ill lan guage. An't be good Wine, it shall never stick at me, what ere the Health be. Never but i'th' Morning. By the lifeblood which dances on her Lip, She is all Paradise; Divine, Angelical, The Duchess me thinks looks Like a Dowdy to her. My Noble Lord; the Duchess Brother. He would have proved the Miracle of the World, if he had been a Woman. I think as you think, Lady. I was afraid he would have said, Woman. Your Lordship talks wondrous current, For your word will go before many a men bound. And the good Earl your father. I hope a man may court his Mistress now with out a Patent from your honour. Wicker Bottles! he calls us wicker bottles. I, we will laugh at him, but let us go, For the fellow is desperate, and perhaps may beat us; Such people fear no law. I, but we may talk our selves out of the liberties, And then he may beat us without the confines. Yet if he did, it all one to me, for I can Endure a beating as well as another man, Custom's another Nature: but yet I would we were gone: And I have a project, if it please your Honour, to set it on foot, it may make a great many of us ride a horseback. Nor I. (with you. And so it did me I protest, for her brother's sake my Lord Frederick Fadoudle. Who was that my Lord? Pray knock there no more my friend, thats the back gate, your best go about. I'ld rather you would let it alone, unless you had a finer handkerche I, I herd it, but I'll be hanged before I'll draw for that trick. Heers and invisible voice follows us in the Like ness of I know not what- It indeed. What, A Door, a Door, the fields are full of them. There was another wiped me in the same place. How now? Sfoot I think some Bird has wraid in my eye. There are some gadflies sure abroad, lets make away. Another wipe first. Why do you laugh my Lord? would, would, would. would, would, Pray why do you laugh my Lord? I pray lets go, would would, And who is mine? Poor fool, thou wut but make thy self derided I do. 'Tis right, With expedition too, I put in that. I sir, Celerity, I mean so. Right. Scripsi. I will read it first my self. Fairest in the world, and sweetest upon earth. I remember my duty to you in black and white. For all colours else wave under the standard of your beauty. You are the mistress of beauty. And all other women are but your handmaids. I can say nothing without saying too much, nor say too much without saying nothing. Me thinks when thou standst'd in the sun with thy Feather on thy head, and thy Fan in thy hand, thou lookest Like the Phoenix of the East Indies, burning in spices, for Cloves, Mace, and Nutmegs are in thy breath. The Apples of thy breast are Like the Leman's of A rabia, which makes the vessel so sweet it can never smell of the Cask. Being come to your middle I must draw to and end, for my end is at the middle because of the Proverb. In Medio consistet virtus, and so I conclude: yours while mine own, and afterwards if it were possible Mar maduke Ranoff. Your censures hereafter Gentlemen; now Sir I challenge you in verse, in praise of tall women, and little women, and choose your subject, which you refuse I'll take. And I your lusty—proceed. Listen you tall and likewise you low man, I sing the praises of a bouncing woman. A full wellset bigge-bon'd and fairly jointed, Fit to bid welcome men that are best appointed. To your tall woman your little one is nothing, No more then isa high thing to a low thing. For your small Dandiprat, I hope there's no man That thinks her but a hobby horse to woman. A thing to be forgotten and never known, But on a Holiday to the rout shown. In wars the Basilisco is preferred Before the Musket, and is louder herd. In every triumph where there is excess, The greater always putteth down the less. The Lioness is more admired at, Then her Epitome, which is a Cat. But to weak understandings now I come, Is your small Taber music to your Drum. Or in instrument of peace, can there that trial Be made upon a Kit as a base Violent. Judge you my Master's, that on both have played, It is but my opinion, and I have said. Soon I'll not endure this: I'll draw first. Scripsi.