ANDELOCIA

S'hart, why how now: two knights of the post? The famine of Gold gnaws his covetous sto macke, more then the want of good victuals: Thou hast looked very devilishly ever since the good Angel left Thee: come, come, leave this broad brim fashions, because the world frowns up on Thee, wilt not thou smile upon us? Her gifts toys: well brother virtue, we have let slip the ripe plucking of those toys so long, that we flourish Like Apple trees in September, (which having the falling sickness) bear neither fruit nor leaves. Shadow, when thou provest a substance, then the tree of virtue and honesty, and such fruit of heaven shall flourish upon earth. It never merry world with us, since purses and bags were invented, for now men set lime twigs to catch wealth: And gold, which riseth Like the sun out of the East Indies, to shine upon every one, is Like a Conte taken napping in a Pursenet, and suffers his glistering yellow face deity to be leapt up in Lambskins, as if the innocence of those leather prisons, should dispense with the Cheuerill consci ences of the Iron hearted Jailers. And what thing is that, you Ass? Oh admirable; hear's a fire Hath power to thaw the very heart of death, And give stones life, by this most sacred death, See brother, heres all India in my hand. That lacks not much of twenty four, but I wonder when that half faced Moon of thine will be at the full. Ho thats to say, when thou eatest bull beef. But Shadow, what day is to day? What day was yesterday? Will tomorrow be so too? That will be rare, you slave: For a lean diet makes a fat wit. Now am I prouder of this poverty, which I know is mine own, then a waiting gentlewoman is, of a frizzled groatesworth of hair, that never grew on her head: Sirrah Shadow, now we can all three swear Like puritans at one bore word: this want makes us Like good bowlers, we are able to rub out and shift in every place. Why, brother Ampedo, art thou not yet tired with riding post? Come, come, light from this loggerheaded Jade, and walk a foot, and talk with your poor friends. Does it not vex Thee, Shadow, to stalk up and down Cyprus, and to meet the outside of a man, leapt all in Damask, his head and beard as white as milk, only with conjuring in the snowy circles of the field Argent, and his nose as read as Scarlet, only with kissing the ruddy lips of Angels, and such and Image to wear on his thumb, three men's livings in the shape of a seal King, while my brother virtue here, Most true, my little lean Iniquity, while we three, if we should starve, cannot borrow five shillings of him neither in word nor deed: does not this vex Thee, Shadow? Art not thou mad, to see money on Goldsmith's stalls, and none in our purses? By my poverty, and thats but a threadbare oath, I am more then mad, to see silks and velvets, lie crowding together in Mercers shops, as in prisons, only for fear of the smell of wax (they cannot abide to see a man made out of wax) for these Satin commodities have such smooth consci ences, that theile have no man give his word for them, or stand bound for their coming forth, but vow to lie till they rot in those shop Counters, except Monsteur money bail them. Shadow, I am out of my little wits to see this. Why, now shadow, I see thou hast a substance: I am glad to see Thee thus mad. Father, be not angry, if I set open the windows of my mind: I doubt for all your bragging, you'll prove Like most of our gallants in Famagusta, that have a rich outside, & a beggarly inside, and Like Mules wear gay trappings, and good Velvet foot-clothes on their backs, yet champ on the Iron bit of penury, I mean, want coin: You gild our ears with a talk of Gold, but I pray dazzle our eyes with the majesty of it. Would, would, would. S heart, I thought as much, if I hear any gingling, but of the purse strings y to go flip, flap, flip, flap, flip, flap, would I were turned into a flip-flap, and sold to the Butchers. We the wags have gold, Father; but I think theres not one Angel more wagging in this sacred Temple; why this is rare: Saddow, five will serve thy turn, give me th'other five. Come, Shadow: now wée'le feast it royalty. Shadow? what have I lost to day at dice? Why sir, how much comes it to? It a charitable deed to hang Thee a smoking. I'll be sworn thy wit is lean. Brother, all hail. You must lend me some more money: Nay never look so strange, and you will come off, so: if you will bar me from square play, do: come come, when the old travel ler my Father comes home, Like a young Ape, full of fantas tick tricks, or a painted Parrat stuck full of outlandish feathers, haele lead the world in a string, and then (Like a hight shot) I'll charge and discharge all. Shadow, I am villainous hungry, to hear one of the seven wise Master's talk thus emptily. Because isle save this gold, sirrah Shadow, weel feed our selves with Paradoxes. Meat, you gull: 'tis no meat: a dish of Paradoxes is a feast of strange opinion, 'tis and ordinary that our greatest gallants haunt nowadays, because they would be held for Statesmen. Fallen to it then with a full mouth. Silence. This is profound, forward: the conclusion of this now. Proceed, good Shadow; this fats me. Give fire to that opinion. Oh learned? Which of the seven? But hast thou no sharper reasons then this? Me thinks, father, you look as you did, only your face is more withered. O rare: this was heavenly. He that would not be and Arabian Phoenix to burn in these sweet fires, let him live Like and Owl for the world to wonder at. Peace, interrupt him not upon thy life. O how my soul is rapt to a third heaven. I'll travel sure, and live with none but kings. And these are sights for none, but gods & kings. Why the pox dost thou sweat so? Semsters? why, you ass, they are destinies. Shadow, I pray thee run and call more help. Run, villain, call more help. Father, your choice was care, the gift divine. How, father? Jewel? call you this a Jewel? It's course Wool, a bald fashion, and greasy to the brim; I have bought a better Felt for a French crown forty times: Of what virtuous block is this Hat, I pray? A wishing Hat, and a golden mine? The flower thats fresh at noon, at Sunset fades. Brother, close you down his eyes, because you were his el dest; and with them close up your tears, while I (as all yond her brother's do) shift for my self: let us mourn, because he's dead, but mourn the less, because he cannot revive: the honour we can do him, is to bury him royally, lets about it then, for isle not melt my self to death with scalding sighs, nor drop my soul out at mine eyes, were my father and Em perour. Yet God send my grief a tongue, that I may have good utterance for it: Sob on, brother mine, while you sighs there, isle fit & read what Story my father has written here. Shadow, why how now? whats the matter? Hast thou been all this while calling for help? I bear it? I touched it not. Away, you Reague, my Father die a beggar? I'll built a Tomb for him of massy Gold. I shall mangle that Alabaster face, you whore son virtuous vice. Brother, come, come, mourn not, our Father is but slept to agree with Charon for his boat hire to Elizium. See, heres a Story of all his travels; this book shall come out with a new Addition: I'll tread after my Father's steps; isle go measure the world, therefore lets share these Jewels, take this or this. A puritane? keep a dead men Will? Indeed in the old time, when men were buried in soft Churchyards, that their Ghosts might rise, it was good but, brother, now they are imprisoned in strong Brick and Marble, they are fast: fear not: away, these are fooleries, gulleries, trump rises; heres this or this, or I am gone with both. Are you content to wear the Jewels by turns? I'll have the purse for a year, you the Hat, and as much gold, as yowl ask; & when my pursourship ends, isle resign, and cap you. I should serve this bearing Ass rarely now, if I should load him, but I will not, though conscience be (Like Physic) seldom used, (for so it does least hurt) yet isle take a dram of it: this for him, and some gold: this for me: for would ving this mint about me, I shall want no wishing Cap: gold is and Eagle, that can fly to any place, and Like death, that dares enter all places. Shadow, wilt thou travel with me? Fashions. How? In mine own country? Like a Cage-bird and see nothing? For these your royal favours done to me, (Being a poor stranger) my best powers shall prove, By Acts of worth, the soundness of my love. That which did allure, My sovereigns son, the wonder of the place. My cunning is but small, yet whoo'le not prove To shame himself for such a Ladies love? Neither: but 'tis the fashion of us Cypriots, both men and women, to yield at first assault, and we expect others should do the Like. Indeed our Ladies are not so fair as you. He that fights under these sweet colours, & yet turns coward, let him be shot to death with the terrible ar rows of fair Ladies eyes. Wake me not yet, my gentle Agripyne. Was not the princess here, when thou camest in? In faith? Where are you hid? where stand you wantoning? Not here? gone i'faith? have you given me the slip? well, 'tis but and amorous trick and so I embrace it: my horse, Shadow, how fare my horse? S'hart what billets, what faggots? dost make me a Woodmonger? Is't possible? is't true, or hast thou learned of the Eng lish gallants to gull? Would, let me see: Oh heres a bastard cheek, I see now 'tis not mine: 'tis counterfeit, 'Tis so: slave thou hast robbed thy master. Go buy with it a Chain and hang thy self. Now think I on my Father's prophecy. Tell none (quoth he) the virtue, if you do, Much shame, much grief, much danger follows you. With tears I credit his divinity. Oh fingers, were you upright Justices, You would tear out mine eyes: had not they gazed On the frail colour of a painted cheek, None had betrayed me: henceforth isle defy All beauty, and will call a lovely eye, A Sun whose scorching beams burn up our joys, Or turn them black Like Ethiopians. Oh women, wherefore are you born men's woe, Why are your faces framed Angelical? Your hearts of sponges, soft and smooth in show, But touched, with poison they do overflow. Had sacred wisdom been my Father's Fate, He had died happy, I lived fortunate. Shadow, be are this to beauteous Agripyne, With it this message, tell her, isle reprove Her covetous sin the less, because for gold, I see that most men's souls too cheap are sold. She hath robbed me, and now isle play the thief, I'll steal from hence to Cyprus, for black shame. Here (through my riots) brands my lofty name. I'll fell this pride for help to bear me thither, So pride and beggary shall walk together: This world is but a School of villainy, Therefore isle rob my brother, (not of gold, Nor of his virtues, virtue none will steal:) But (if I can,) isle steal his wishing Hat. And with that, wandering round about the world, I'll search all corners to find misery, And where she dwells, isle dwell, languish and die. Exit. Indeed the devil and the pickpurse should always fly together, (for they are sworn brother's:) but Madam Covetousness, I am neither a devil as you call me, nor a Jewel le as I call my self, no, nor a Juggler, yet ere you and I partly, weel have some legerdimain together: do you know me? Talk not you of satisfaction, this is some recom pence that I have you, 'tis not the purse I regard: put if off, and isle mince it as small as pie meat: the purse? hang the purse: were that gone, I can make another, and another, & another, I and another: 'tis not the purse I care for, but the purser: you, I you. Is't not a shame that a kings daughter, a fair Lady, a Lady not for Lords, but for Monarchs, should for gold fell her love, and when she has her own asking, and that there stands nothing between, then to cheat your sweet heart? Oh fie, fie, a she conycatcher? You must be dealt soundly with. No, why I tell you I am not given to the flesh, though I savour (in your nose) a little of the devil, I could run away else, and starve you here. Or transform you (because you love picking) into a Squirrel, and make you pick out a poor living here among the Nut trees: but I will not neither. O, now you come to your old bias of cogging. Here, God a mercy: now thou shalt not go. Nay do you hear Lady? cry not you're best: no nor curse me not: if you think but a crabbed thought of me, the spirit that carried you in mine arms through the air, will tell me all: therefore set your Sunday face vpont. Since you'll love me, isle love you, isle marry you, and lie with you, and be get little Jugglers: marry home you get not: England you'll say is yours: but Agripyne, love me, and I will make the whole world thine. S'hart now I am worse then ere I was before: For half the world I would not have her die. Heres neither spring nor ditch, nor rain, nor Due, Nor bred, nor drink: my lovely Agripyne, Be comforted, see here are Apple trees. Look up, which of these Apples likes Thee best? Come hither, here are Apples Like gold. Stand farther, least I chance to fallen on Thee. O here be rare Apples, rare red-cheekt Apples, that cry come kiss me Apples, hold your peace, isle teach you to cry. Eats one. Agripyna, 'tis a most Sugared delicious taste in ones mouth, but when 'tis down, 'tis as bitter as gall. The sun kiss Thee? hold, catch, put on my Hat, I will have yonder highest Apple, though I die for't. Oh me, what hell is this? fiends, tempt me not. Thou glorious devil hence. O now I see, This fruit is thine, thou hat deformed Me: Idiot avoid, thy gifts I loath to taste. Away: since I am entered madness School, As good to be a beast, as be a fool. Away, why tempt you me? some powerful grace Come and redeem me from this hideous place. Whose blessed tongue names Andelocia? Oh sacred Queen of chance, now thorten mine, Else let thy deity take off this shame. She laughs to see me metamorphosed. I am beset with anguish, shame and death. Oh bid the Fates work fast, and stop my breath. Till now, I never did behold her face. Oh, re-transforme me to a glorious shape, And I will learn how I may love to hate her. This woman? wretched is my state, when I, To find out wisdom, to a fool must fly. 'Tis bitter: this fruit I shall never digest. By my trat Madam, 'tis réet Tamasco péepins, look here else. Féeue and feeue? By my trat and as Créeze save me la, I cannot tell, what be de price of feeue and feeue, but 'tis tree crown for one Péepin, that is the préez if you take em. And make dis fash be more fair and amiable, and make dis eyes look always lovely, and make all de court & country burn in desire to kiss di none sweet countenance. By my trat, and by Saint Patrick's hand, and as Créez save me la, 'tis no dissembler: de Irish man now and den cut di countrymans throat, but yet in fayt he love di countryman, 'tis no dissembler: dis féene Tamasco apple can make di sweet countenance, but I can take no less but three crowns for one, I wear out my naked legs and my foots, and my tods, and run hidder and didder to Tamasco for dem. Peace, Shadow, buy any péepins, buy. No fat, master, here came no Lords nor Ladies, but di none sweet self. Oh, 'twill make Thee wondrous wise. Would, would, would. So, this is admirable, Shadow, here end my torments in Saint Patrick's Purgatory, but thine shall continue longer. It became Thee rarely. Thou art a gull, 'tis all the fashion now, which fashion because weel keep, step thou abroad, let not the world want fools: while thou art commensing thy knavery there, isle proceed Doctor Dodipoll here: that done, thou Shadow and I will fat our selves to behold the transformation of these fools: go fly. S'hart, here's my brother whom I have abuzde: His presence makes me blush, it strikes me dead, To think how I am metamorphosed. Féene paepins of Tamasco &c. Whilt thou buy any pips? Where? and where? are you created Constable, you stand so much upon Intergatories? the purse is gone, let that fret you, and the Hat is gone, let that mad you: I run thus through all trades to overtake them, if yowl be quiet, follow me, and help, if not, fly from me, and hang your self: wilt thou buy any pippins? Exit. He Monsieur Long-villain gram tank you: Gram tank your mashestie a great teale artely by my trat: where be dis Madam Princeza that be so much tormenta? Oh I eshu: one, 2: and tree, 4 & 5, seez horn Would, would, would, pardona moi prea wid all mine art, for by my trat, me can no point shose but laugh, Would, would, would to mark how Like tree bul-beggera, day stand. O, by my trat and fat, di diuela be whoreson, scurme, paltry, ill savour knave to mock de Madam, and gentle-home so: Would, would, would, would. I'll sauce you for your infidelity. Aside. In no place can I spy my wishing Hat. 'Tis all one for that: shall do presently; Madam, prea mark me: Monseiur, shamp dis in your two shaps, so, now Monsieur Long-villain, dis so: now dis, fear noting, 'tis eshelent medicine: so, now cram dis into your guts, and belly: So, now snap away dis whoreson four diuela; Would, would, Is no point good? Puts Galloways horns off. No by my trat, 'tis no possibla, 'tis no possibla, all de mattra, all de ting, all de substance, all de medicine, be among his and his belly 'tis no possibla, till me prepare more. I much buy many costily tings that grow in Aram bia, in Asia, and America, by my trat 'tis no possibla, till anon der time, no point. Fie, fie, fie, fie, you no credit le dockature? Would, but vel, 'tis all one for tat: 'tis no mattera for gold: Vel, vel, vel, vel, vel, me have some more, prea say noting, shall be presently prepara for your horns. She has my purse, and yonder lies my Hat, Work brains, and once more make me fortunate. Vel, vel, vel, vel, be patient Madam, presently, presently, be patient, me have two, tree, four and five medicines for de horn: presently Madam, stand you der, prea wid all mine art, stand you all der: and say noting, so: nor look noting dis vey: so, presently, ppesently Madam, snip dis horn off wid de rushes & anoder ting by and by, by and by, by and by, prea look none dis vey, and say noting. Gets his Hat up. So, taka dis hand: wink now prea artely wid your two nyes: why so. Would I were with my brother Ainpedo. Exit with her. Draw weapons, where the princess, follow him, Stay the French Doctor, stay the Doctor there. Cornwall and some other run out, and enter presently. Your life? you think then that I am a true Donc tor indeed, that tie up my lining in the knots of winding sheets: your life? no, keep your life, but deliver your purse: you know the thieves salutation, Stand & deliver. So, this is mine, and these yours: I'll teach you to live by the sweat of other men's brows. Right, Shadow: therefore vanish, you have made me turn Juggler, and cry hey-passe, but your horns shall not repass. Therefore not a word, go, trudge to your Father: sighs not for your purse, money may be God by you, as well as by the little Welsh woman in Cyprus, that had but one horn in her head, you have two; and perhaps you shall cast both: as you use me, mark those words well, as you use me, nay, you're best fly, isle not endure one word more. Yet stay too, be cause you entreat me so gently, and that isle make some a mends to your Father, although I care not for any King in Christendom, yet hold you, take this Apple, eat it as you go to court, and your horns shall play the cowards and fallen from you. Why dost thou laugh, Shadow? Tricks, Ampedo, tricks, devises, and mad He rogliphickes, mirth, mirth, and melody. Oh, there's more mu sick in this, then all the Gammoth ears, and Solemnizing fa Res, in the world; here's the purse, and here's the Hat: because you shall be sure isle not start, wear you this, you know his for tue; if danger beset you, fly & away: A sort of broken-shined limping legd Jades run hobbling to seek us: Shadow, weel for all this have one fit of mirth more, to make us laugh and be fat. High Thee to my chamber, make ready my richest attire, isle to Court presently. Away, away, and meet me presently. Away with your purity, brother, you're and Ass, why does this purse spit out gold but to be spent? why lives a man in this world, to dwell in the Suburbs of it, as you do? Away foreign simplicity, away: are not eyes made to see fair Ladies: hearts to love them? tongues to court them, & hands to feel them? Out you Stock, you stone, you logs end: Are not legs made to dance, and shall mine limp up and down the world after your cloth-stockin-héeles? you have the Hat, keep it, anon isle visit your virtuous countenance again, a Due, pleasure is my sweet mistress, I wear her love in my Hat, and her soul in my heart: I have sworn to be merry, and in spite of Fortune and the black-browed destinies, isle never be sad. Exit. Thanks, Lord Longauyle. And thither am I going. Were not your Apples delicate and rare? What, will you murder me? help, help, some help. Villains, what means this barbarous treachery? Murder, they murder me, Oh call for help. Are you appointed by the king to this? My brother Ampedo? Alas, what fate Hath made thy virtues so infortunate? Traitors to honour, what do you intend? Give me that portion, for I have a heart Shall spend it freely, and make bankrowt The proudest woe that ever wet men eye. Care with a mischief? wherefore should I care? Have I rid side by side by mighty kings, Yet be thus bridled now? I'll tear these fetters. Murder, cry murder, Ampedo, aloud. To bear this scorn our Fortune's are too proud. Where is the wishing Hat? Oh miserable, miserable soul. Thus a foul life makes death to look more foul. Come you to strangle me? are you the hangman? Hellhounds you're damed for this impiety. Fortune, forgive me, I deserve thy hate, My self have made myself a reprobate: Virtue, forgive me, for I have transgressed Against thy laws, my vows are quite forgotten, And therefore shame is fallen to my sins lot. Riches and knowledge are two gifts divine. They that abuse them both as I have done, To shame, to beggary, to hell must run. Oh conscience hold thy sting, cease to afflict me. Be quick, tormentors, I desire to die. No death is equal to my misery. Cyprus, vain world, and Vanity farewell. Who builds his heaven on earth, is sure of hell. Peace, good virtue, Shad here comes another Shadow My father Fortunatus, & thus brave? Take heed I turn not that head into the world, and lead you so? Brother wilt be? Hay any ends of Gold or Silver? In despite of sway-bellies, gluttons, & sweet mouthed Epicures, I'll have Thee maintain a Paradox in commendations of hun her. Seest thou this Crusadd? do it, & turn this into a feast Why, you dolt, these pies are but in their minority. I thought travel would turn my father, mad man or fool. How? in a minute, father? Would, would, I see travellers must lie. Faith father, what pleasure have you met by wall king your stations? When I turn king, then shalt thou wait on me. I fear he's risen again, didst not thou meet him? Thou dolt, weel visit all the kings courts in y e world. Prepare thy spirits, for thou shalt go with me, To England shall our stars direct our course, Thither the prince of Cyprus (our kings son) Is gone to see the lovely Agripyne, Shadow, weel gaze upon that English dame, And try what virtue gold has to inflame. First to my brother, then away lets fly, Shadow must be a Courtier ere he die. Exit. I shall never have the face to ask the question twice. Fortune I thank Thee: now thou smilest on me. Theres heaven in these times: throw the musicians Abounteous largess of three hundred Angels. Andelocia starts up. Would, Shadow? where's the Princess Agripyne? Fetch twenty Porters, isle laid all with gold. Come then, hold up, how now? tricks, new crochets, Madam Fortune? Dry as and Eele-skin? Shadow, take thou my Gold out. Vengeance on Thee and on thy stewardship. Yet wherefore curse I Thee? thy leaden soul Had never power to mount up to the knowledge Of the rich mystery closed in my purse. O no, isle curse my self, mine eyes isle curse, They have betrayed me, I will curse my tongue, That hath betrayed me: I'll curse Agripyne, She hath betrayed me: Sirens cease to sing, Your charms have taken effect, for now I see, All your enchantments were, to cousin me. Music ceases. To morrow? I, to morrow thou shalt buy them, To morrow tell the Princess I will love her, To morrow tell the king, isle banquet him, To morrow, Shadow, will I give Thee gold, To morrow pride goes bore and lust acold. To morrow will the rich man feed the poor. And vice to morrow virtue will adore, To morrow beggars shall be crowned kings, This No-time, morrows-time, no sweetness sings: I pray Thee hence: bear that to Agripyne. Shall I in faith? Heres one Apple that grows highest, Agripyna, & I could reach that, isle come down. Swounds Agripyna, stay, Oh I am undone, Sweet Agripyna, if thon hearst my voice, Take pity of me, and return again She flies Like lightning: Oh she hears me not, I wish my self into a wilderness, And now I shall turn wild: here I shall famish, Here die, here cursing die, here raving die, And thus will wound my breast, and rend mine hair. What hills of Flint are grown upon my brows? Oh me, two forked horns, I am turned beast, I have abuzde two blessings, wealth and knowledge, Wealth in my purse, and knowledge in my Hat, By which being born into the Courts of kings, I might have seen the wondrous works of Jove, Acquirde Experience, Learning, Wisdom, Truth, But I in wilderness tottered out my youth, And therefore must turn wild: must be a beast, And ugly beast: my body horns must bear, Because my soul deformity does wear. Lives none within this wood? If none but I Live here (thanks heaven) for here none else shall die. Andelocia is a Nettle: if you touch him gently, heel sting you. Nay away, not a word. I, murderers, he is dead. Oh sacred wisdom, Had Fortunatus been enamored Of thy celestial beauty, his two sons Had shined Like two bright Suns. Sweeten mine ears, good father, with some more. I thank your grace: would he durst keep his word, I know what I would claim: Tush, man, be bold, Were she a Saint, she may be won with gold. Not a stick of wood? Some child of envy has buzd this stratagem into the kings ear, of purpose to disgrace me: I have invited his majesty, and though it cost me a Million, isle feast him: Shadow, thou shalt hire a hundred or two of Carts, with them post to all the Grocers in London, buy up all the Cynamon, Cloves, Nutmegs, Licorish and all other spices, that have any strong heart, and with them make fires to pre pare our Cookery: Ere Fortunatus son look read with shame, Heel dress a Kings feast in a spiced flame. Ere Fortunatus son look read with shame, Heel dress a Kings feast in a spiced flame. Nay gods lid, you're not gone so: set your heart at rest, for I have set up my rest, that except you can run swifter then a Heart, home you go not: what pains shall I lay upon you? Let me see: I could serve you now but a slippery touch: I could get a young King or two, or three of you, and then send you home, and bid their grandsire king nurse them: I could pepper you, but I will not. Immortal Arete, Virtue divine, Kneels. Oh smile on me, and I will still be thine. Oh delicate, Oh sweet Ambrosian relish, And see, my ugliness drops from my brows, Thanks beauteous Arete: Oh had I now My Hat and purse again, how I would shine, And gild my soul with none but thoughts divine. No by my trat la, but me lovam musha musha merry mant: Come Madam, prea-artely stand still, and letta me S ele your dis horn, Oh 'tis pretty horn, dis be facile, easy for pull de vey but Madame dis Oh he grand, grand horn, diffi cill, and very deep, 'tis pertious, a grand Laroone. But Ma dam, prea be patient, we shall take it off well. Peace, fool, am not I Fortune's minion? These bans are but one wrinkle of her frown, This is her Evening mask, her next morns eye Shall overshine the Sun in majesty. Accursed be those hands that did destroy it, That would redeem us, did we now enjoy it. Thrc have we parde them off, but with fresh pain, In compass of a thought they rise again. Its true, 'tis no easy mattra, to pull horn off, 'tis easy for pull on, but hard for pull off, some horn be so good fellow, he will still inhabit in de men pate, but 'tis all one for tat, I shall snap away all dis: Madam trust dis down into your little belly. I mean, are they lusty, sprightly, gallant, wanto ̄ , fiery?