DORIDO

I've herd a better Character of both, Such, as to the young Count, Wit, and valour gives: Unto Forest, honest Spirits. Why dost thou spend thy gall in secret thus? A pox vpon't: turn thoughts to Actium: Heaven knows, I had rather enrich my self, Then envy others wealth. Employ thy brain. Get the Dukes fist to this; and thou shalt share Five hundred Crowns. The old business. His Man's as full of Proverbs As a Constable: he coins they himself. He walks Like a Zealand-storke. Why sir; this dignifies the Jest. They scarce Ere saw the Duke: and are less known Unto the world. His Grace well apprehends, These voluntary mistakes of Nature, In preservation of their intellects, Are fitter subjects for accidental mirth, Then a Comical continuance. It is A levity too humble in a Prince To heed such trifles. This disgrace, makes thy Cousin boil his heart In his own blood. And I with all celerity. How? will Borachio leave the Court? Then get a Patent to survey Brine-pits. Or else for casting Ordinance in Loom. A joust exception: for going hastily To kiss his whore; he could not find her Mouth. Now when he hath provided some high toy For the Press; he thinks on worser dic cion, Strait chooses one of the faction; who must Not Patronise, but buy what he makes vendable, With praise in the Epistle. I will be bold to think so. Known, by whom by City wits! Good! they have left the Garden door un locked I'll venture in to help discovery. Castruchio is graced with rare employment: The Duke and he do here consume the Night. These are hours for Ghosts, Adulterers And Thieves. The slave is Haggard. At Supper Being full of gold: his vain Appetite Fed at Nero's rate; I was discarded With a frown: shaken Like a Burre from's sleeve. As if my closure heretofore had been Impertinent. Ambition lessens all Beneath it self to nothing: the higher We do stand: so much less those men appear Whom we behold below—Hark! Kind Fortune Lend me thy Ears— And nothing makes Learning so cheap; but that Every writer sells his works. So swift of foot! I must overtake you. Signior, I knew you a brave Commander Under the great Petruchio; and since That time your constant virtues have deserved More recompense, then Fate will minister By me. My kindness is no miracle: Since gratitude is only sick, not dead. But pray believe what I have said is truth. I prithee stay, why slip but here asid And thou shalt see the most resplendent Fopp, That ever did discredit Nature. Sigmor. Lothario; a Country Gentleman But now the Court Baboon: who persuades himself, (Out of a new kind of madness) to be The Dukes favourite. He comes. Th'other is A bundle of Proverbs: whom he seduced From the Plough; to serve him for Preferment. I know him. He sings Like Phalaris Bull. But that's contingent now: Forest Being made Secretary of State. Why about two days since: one of the sect Sent me a Challenge. Because my sister Drunk his Lords health, with her Quoif on. Each hour These giddy Participles do embark Themselves for Duels. The one is a kin To my honourable Lady. Ih'other To my very good Lord. Good morrow to the Court Satirist. We shall have your Thrush, in a Cage shortly. Remember, who you deal withal. Prithee (sweet Castruchio ) leave thy barkeing. It'll bet treason shortly for any man, To carry ears, within three, miles of thy Tongue. Not of your faction (Sir) if none return Unto the prison for your libeling. You remember your Vices-strip'd, and whipped. Your trim Eclogues, the fulsome Satyr too, Written to his Grace. Wherein you flatter, Whine, and damn your self to get a pardon For what seems there a resolute offence. Satyrs, are more useful, now then ever. Nor grieves it me to see the humour used, But thus abused. To see a Barred still reach At ho Baize, Passion o'me! I'll tell thee. Thy R mes I clude not so much Brains, as would Suffice to fill a Cherrystone. I, with thy self. Step aside. They are as mad as thy Cousin. All this is Alcaron. Hold! Signior Lothario, hold! Mercy Becomes the powerful, Lets relieve Borachio, or all our Comic Scenes Are at and end. Who never saw verse, but what their Suitors writ, Which they read Like Prose too. They say you are particular with a Great Lady. Some lose thing (belike) yet will be at charge, To secure her fame from noise. For thou prayst Against all lechery but thine own. I, for then she had lived chaste. He grows angry, His eyes look read. T'were fit they would employ their modesty At home. For thou art a fool in print. True, for every Poet thinks himself The best Poet in the world. A precious Satirist! This surly Dog, Inveys against lechery in others, because He would engross all Women to himself. Oh damned villainy: Is this th'imployment That does make you proud? I will haunt you still, To strengthen my intelligence. Cry mercy Signior: the day's blear Eie'd yet, And my own hast made me unmannerly. Faith Signior; the Count being out of Town I though Forest would have more leisure To peruse my new Suit. He's early up; Which caused my vigilance. Then Signior, you will oblige my prayers. The Profit of the day be yours. These tricks Shall make me wear him in my Eyes. The slave Does usher out his breath in state; as if His honours had out grown his own knowledge. Yet but a tame Pande . The beauteous Corsa Is ravished by the Duke. Oh black horror. Arise my soul, inspire my industry With noble purpose. Something I'll do That shall proclaim my Spirit. I give you real grounds for my suspense. Reward (sir) may make a Villain bloody Though it cannot make him valiant. The Duke Will let him want no Gold. Noble Signior, I am yours, My thoughts continue in the former sense: I have a chaste, and virtuous wife; however You desired assurance from a trial So unkind as this. Beside our obligations to your worth, Even both our honours would impose it As a virtue, not a trouble. We are Your humble servants. Bring the slaves in, their deeds will soon convince Their faint denial, where did you leave they Lady? Hold the Lady there: Oh dire spectacle. the Duke, Lucio, Forest, and Lothario Lie here breathless. I did suspect some black Conspiracy. Which made me haunt them two Unto the Palace, but I did lose they By the Chapel stairs; bloody dogs, what Devil Prompted thee to this Actium. Take em away, and close their wounds, though there Be some mercy shown, by thus deferring That reward which your black souls shall receive In Hell. Yet know the Law will here on Earth Provide such tortures as shall make your death's Exemplary to all succeeding times.— Gentlemen, your silence may be excused. Where, theres so much cause of admiration. Some help transfer the dead from hence, others Call up the Councillors of state. So intricate is Heavens revenge gainst lust. The righteous suffer here, with the unjust. Dost here? Cosimo.