EPERNON

See the young Dolphin brought to cheer your highness. Pronounce the riddle: I will undertake it. Let me peruse it, Cupid. Your Riddle is good Fame. Good fame is that a good Lady most likes I am sure; Yet ever makes show she least of all seeks: for she likes it only for the virtue, which is not glorious. 'Tis ever embraced and affected by her: for she must, persever in virtue or fame vanishes. Yet never is seen to please or come nigh her for fame is Inui sible, Most served in her night weeds: for Ladies that most wear their Nightweeds come left abroad, and they that come least abroad serve fame most; according to this; Non forma said fama in publicum exire de bet. Does her good in a corner: that is in her most retreat from the world, comforts her; but a poor men thing: for every poor man may purchase it, yet does richly adorn a Lady. Most cheap for it costs nothing, and most deer, for gold can not buy it; above all worldly pelffe; for thats tran sitory, and fame eternal. It is hard to get in; that is hard to get: But comes out of it self; for when it is vertuosely deserved with the most inward retreat from the world, it comes out in spite of it, & so Cupid your jewel is mine. He will not come I dare engage my hand. Men never are satisfied with that they have; But as a man, matched with a lovely wife, When his most heavenly Theory of her beauty's, Is dulled and quite exhausted with his practice: He bring her forth to feasts, where he ahlas, Falls to his viends with no thought Like others, That hinke him blessed in her, and they (poor men) Court, and make faces, offer service, sweat, With their desires contention, break their brains For jests, and tales: fit mute, and lose their looks, (Far out of wit, and out of countenance) So all men else, do what they have transplant, And place their wealth in thirst of that they want. Oh madness? he is come. I know my Lord. You play well but you make your matches ill. I'll tell you as your friend in your ear. You have given more preferment to your courage, Then to the provident counsels of your friends. By Saint John, 'Tis a good headless resolution. Exeunt. Your mind, Is not upon your Game, Farewell for ever; so have I desern'd And exhalation that would be a Star Fallen when the Sun forsook it, in a sink. Shoes ever overthrow that are too large, And hugest canons, burst with overcharge. I wish your comforts, and incoradgments, May spring out of your safety; but I hear The King hath reasond so against your life, And made your most friends yield so to his reasons, That your estate is fearful. 'Tis for one, Wounded in fight here at Saint Anthony's Gate: Wilt please your Majesty to take your place, The Mask is coming. Lift, and then cut; Strength to aspire, is still accompanied With weakness to endure; All popular gifts, Are coullors, it will bear no vinegar; And rather to adverse affai es, betray; Thine arm against them; his State still his best That hath most inward worth; and that's best tried, That neither glories, nor is glorified. For heavens sake, good my Lord. He said not this my Lord, that I have herd. Oh of what contraries consists a man! Of what impossible mixtures? vice and virtue, Corruption, and eternnesse, at one time, And in one subject, let together, lose? We have not any strength but weakens us, No greatness but does crush us into air. Our knowledges, do light us but to err, Our Ornaments are Burdens: Our delightss Are our tormentors; fiends that (raised in fears) At parting shake our Roofs about our ears.