The one as I am Leon the rich usurer,
The other as I am the mad-brain Count,
And do the best too for my brother's love.
Pe. Thanks, good master brother, but
what are they

That talk with them so long? are they wooers trow?

I do not like it, would they would come

near.

Ir. Oh, those are three servants that attend on them;

Let them alone, let them talk awhile.
Eli. Tell us, Menippus, Druso, and
Pollidor,

Why all our parents gave you three such charge,

To wait on us and oversee us still, What do they fear, think you, that we would do?

Me. Their fear is lest you should accompany

Such as love wanton talk and dalliance.

Eli. Why, what is wanton talk?

Me. To tell you that were to offend ourselves

And those that have forbidden you should

hear it.

Sa. Why, what is dalliance, says my servant, then?

Dru. You must not know, because you must not dally.

Sa. How say you by that? well, do you keep it from us, as much as you can, we'll desire it nevertheless, I can tell ye.

Ma. Lord, what strait keepers of poor maids are you,

You are so chaste you are the worse again. Eli. Pray you, good servants, will you do us the service,

To leave us alone awhile?

Me. We are commanded not to be from you,

And therefore to leave you alone, Were to wrong the trust your parents put in us.

Ma. I cry you mercy, sir, yet do not stand all on the trust our parents put in you, but put us in a little too, I pray.

Sa. Trust us, good servants, by ourselves awhile.

Dru. Let us, my masters, and you say the word,

They'll but to Irus for to know their fortunes,

And he's a holy man, all Egypt knows.

Me. Stay not too long, then, mistress,

and content.

Eli. That's my good servant, we will straight return.

Po. And you, mistress. Ma. And I, trusty servant. Po. Faith then I'll venture my charge among the rest. [Exeunt. Ma. A mighty venture! you shall be chronicled in Abraham's asses' catalogue of coxcombs for your resolution.

Eli. Now the great fool take them all! Who could have pick'd out three such lifeless puppies,

Never to venture on their mistresses.

Sa. One may see by them it is not meet choice men should have offices.

Ma. A pretty moral ! work it in the sampler of your heart.

Eli. But are we by ourselves? Ma. I think so, unless you have alone* in your belly.

Eli. Not I, God knows; I never came

where they grew yet,

Since we are alone let's talk a little merrily, Methinks I long to know what wanton talk and dalliance is.

Sa. I'll lay my life 'tis that my mother uses when she and others do begin to talk, and that she says to me, "Maid, get ye hence, fall to your needle: what, a maid and idle?"

Ma. A maid and idle! Why, maids must
be idle, but not another thing.
Sa. Then do not name it, for I fear 'tis
naught.

For yesterday I heard Menippus say
As he was talking with my mother's maid,
And I stood hearkening at the chamber
door,

That with that word a maid was got with child.

Eli. How, with the very word?

Sa. I mean with that the word seems to express.

Ma. Nay, if you be so fine you will not

name it now,

We are all alone, you are much too nice. Eli. Why, let her choose, let us two name it.

Ma. Do then, Elimine.
Eli. Nay do you, Martia.

Ma. Why, woman, I dare.

Eli. Do then, I warrant thee.

Ma. I'll warrant myself, if I list, but come let it alone,

Let us to Irus for our fortunes.
Eli. God save grave Irus!

Ir. Welcome, beauteous nymphs.

Sa. How know you, Irus, we are beautiful, And cannot see?

* Sic in Orig.

B

Ir. Homer was blind, yet could he best discern

The shapes of everything, and so may I. Eli. Indeed, we hear your skill can beautify

Beauty itself, and teach dames how to deck

Their heads and bodies fittest to their forms,

To their complexions and their coun

tenances.

Ir. So can I, beauteous nymphs, and make all eyes

Sparkle with love-fire from your excellence. Eli. How think you we are tyred to tempt men's looks,

Being thus nymphlike is it not too strange? Ir. It is the better so it doth become. But that I may disclose to you your fortunes,

Tell me first, Pego, their true faces' forms? Pe. Marry, sir, this that speaks to you has a face thin like unto water gruel, but yet it would do your heart good if you could see it.

Ir. I know and see it better than thyself, 'The blaze whereof doth turn me to a fire, Burning mine entrails with a strong desire. Eli. Why turn'st thou from us, Irus? tell my fortune.

Ir. I wonder at the glory it presents To my soul's health, that sees upon your head

A coronet, and at your gracious feet, Nobles and princes in their highest state, Which state shall crown your fortune ere you die,

And ere the heart of Heaven, the glorious

sun,

Shall quench his roseate fires within the west,

You shall a husband have noble and rich. Sa. Happy, Elimine, oh that I might

too.

Eli. Thanks for this news, good Irus, but disclose

The means to this, if it be possible.

Ir. When you come home ascend your father's tower,

If you see a man come walking by,
And looking up to you, descend,
And issue, for you shall have leave,
And if he woo you, choose him from the
world.

Though he seem humorous and want an

eye,

Wearing a velvet patch upon the same, Choose him your husband, and be blest in him.

Eli. I'll do as thou advisest, gentle Irus, And proving this, I'll love thee whilst I live.

Sa. My fortune now, sweet Irus.
Ir. What face hath this nymph, Pego?
Pe. Marry, sir, a face made in form like
the ace of hearts.

Ir. And well compared, for she com-
mands all hearts;

Equal in beauty with that other nymph, And equally she burns my heart with love. Sa. Say, say, sweet Irus, what my fortune is,

Thou turn'st from me, as when thou didst admire

The happy fortune of Elimine.

Ir. So might I well, admiring yours no less.

Then when the light-crown'd monarch of the heavens

Shall quench his fire within the Ocean's breast,

Rise you and to your father's garden hie,
There in an arbour do a banquet set,
And if there comes a man that of himself
Sits down, and bids you welcome to your
feast,

Accept him, for he is the richest man
That Alexandria or Egypt hath;
And soon possessing him with all his
wealth,

In little time you shall be rid of him, Making your second choice 'mongst mighty kings.

Sa. Blest be thy lips, sweet Irus, and
that light

That guides thy bosom with such deep
foresight!

Sleep shall not make a closet for these ¦ eyes

All this succeeding night, for haste to rise.
Ma. My fortune now, sweet Irus, but
i'faith,

I have some wrong to be the last of all,
For I am old as they, and big enough
To bear as great a fortune as the best of
them.

Ir. What face hath this nymph, Pego?

Pe. Oh! master, what face hath she not? If I should beg a face, I would have her face.

Ir. But is it round, and hath it ne'er a blemish,

A mouth too wide, a look too impudent?
Pe. Oh! master, 'tis without all these,
and without all cry.

Ir. Round faces and thin-skinn'd are
happiest still.

And unto you, fair nymph,

To adore so clear a sight in one so blind. [Exeunt. Ir. Farewell, most beauteous nymphs, your loves to me

Shall more than gold or any treasure be. Now to my wardrobe for my velvet gown;

now doth the sport begin;

Come, gird this pistol closely to my side, By which I make men fear my humour still,

And have slain two or three, as 'twere my mood,

When I have done it most advisedly

To rid them as they were my heavy foes; Now am I known to be the mad-brain Count,

| Whose humours twice five summers I have held,

And said at first I came from stately Rome,
Calling myself Count Hermes, and assuming
The humour of a wild and frantic man,
Careless of what I say or what I do;
And so such faults as I of purpose do
Is buried in my humour and this gown I

wear

In rain, or snow, or in the hottest summer, And never go nor ride without a gown, Which humour does not fit my frenzy well, But hides my person's form from being known,

When I Cleanthes am to be descried.

Enter Pego, like a Burgomaster. Pe. How now, master brother? Now, master Burgomaster, I pray you reIr. Oh, sir, you are very well suited.

member

To seize on all Antistenes his goods,
His lands and chattels, to my proper use,
As I am Leon, the rich usurer;
The sun is down, and all is forfeited.

Pe. It shall be done, my noble Count. Ir. And withal, sir, I pray you, forget not your love

To-morrow morning, at her father's door. Pe. Ah, my good Count, I cannot that forget,

For still to keep my memory in order, As I am Burgomaster, so love is my recorder. [Exeunt.

Enter Elimine, above, on the walls.

Now see a morning in an evening rise, I will not say of beauty, that were pride; The morning of my love and of my joy,

Within this tower I would I had a torch

To light, like Hero, my Leander hither.
Who shall be my Leander? Let me see,
Rehearse my fortune.

When you see one clad in a velvet gown,
And a black patch upon his eye, a patch,
Patch that I am, why, that may be a patch
Of cloth, of buckram, or of fustian cloth,
Say, with a velvet patch upon his eye,
And so my thoughts may patch up love
the better;

See, where he comes, the Count; what, girl, a countess ?

Enter Count.

See, see, he looks as Irus said he should: Go not away, my love, I'll meet thee straight.

Count. Oh, I thank you, I am much beholding to you,

I saw her in the tower, and now she is come down,

Luck to this patch and to this velvet gown. Enter Elimine and Bragadino, a Spaniard, following her.

Count. How now, shall I be troubled with this rude Spaniard now? Brag. One word, sweet nymph. Count. How now, sirrah, what are you?

the

Brag. I am Signor Bragadino, martial Spaniardo, the aid of Egypt in her present wars; but, Jesu, what art thou that hast the guts of thy brains griped with such famine of knowledge not to know me

Count. How now, sir! I'll try the proof of your guts with my pistol, if you be so saucy, sir.

Brag. Oh, I know him well: it the rude Count, the uncivil Count, the unstaid Count, the bloody Count, the Count of all Counts; better I were to hazard the dissolution of my brave soul against an host of giants than with this loose Count, otherwise I could tickle the Count; i'faith, my noble Count, I do descend to the craving of pardon-love blinded me; I knew thee not.

Count. Oh, sir, you are but bonaventure, not right Spanish, I perceive; but do you hear, sir, are you in love?

Brag. Surely the sudden glance of this lady nymph hath suppled my Spanish disposition with love that never before dreamt of a woman's concavity.

Count. A woman's concavity, 'sblood, what's that?

Brag. Her hollow disposition which you see sweet nature will supply, or otherwise stop up in her with solid or firm faith.

Count. Give me thy hand, we are lovers both shall we have her both? Brag. No, good sweet Count, pardon

me.

Count. Why then, thus it shall be; we'll strike up a drum, set up a tent, call people together, put crowns apiece, let's rifle for

her.

Brag. Nor that, my honest Count.

Count. Why then, thus it shall be: we'll woo her both, and him she likes best shall lead her home through streets, holding her by both her hands, with his face towards her; the other shall follow with his back towards her, biting of his thumbs. How sayest thou by this?

Brag. It is ridiculous, but I am pleased; for, upon my life, I do know this, the shame will light on the neck of the Count. Count. Well, to it; let's hear thee. Brag. Sweet nymph, a Spaniard is compared to the great elixir, or golden medicine.

Count. What, dost thou come upon her with medicines? Dost thou think she is sore?

Brag. Nay, by thy sweet favour, do not interrupt me.

Count. Well, sir, go forward. Brag. I say a Spaniard is like the philosopher's stone.

Count. And I say another man's stone may be as good as a philosopher's, at all times.

Brag. By thy sweet favour.
Count. Well, sir, go on.

Brag. Sweet nymph, I love few words; you know my intent, my humour is insophistical and plain; I am Spaniard a born, my birth speaks for my nature, my nature for your grace, and should you see a whole battail ranged by my skill, you would commit your whole self to my affection; and so, sweet nymph, I kiss your hand.

Count. To see a whole battail, ha, ha, ha! what a jest is that; thou shalt see a whole battail come forth presently of me, fa, fa, fa!

Brag. Put up thy pistol, 'tis a most dangerous humour in thee.

Count. Oh, is that all? why, see 'tis up again: now thou shalt see I'll come to her in thy humour. Sweet lady, I love sweet words, but sweet deeds are the noble sounds of a noble Spaniard, noble by country, noble by valour, noble by birth; my very foot is nobler than the head of another man; upon my life I love, and upon my love I live, and so, sweet nymph, I kiss your hand; why, lo, here we are both, I am in this hand, and he is in that: handy dandy prickly prandy, which hand will you have?

Eli. This hand, my lord, if I may have my choice.

Count. Come, Spaniard, to your penance; bite your thumbs.

Brag. Oh, base woman! Count. 'Sblood! no base woman; but bite your thumbs quickly.

Brag. Honour commands; I must do it. Count. Come on, sweet lady, give me your hands if you are mine, I am yours; if you take me now at the worst, I am the more beholding to you, if I be not good enough, I'll mend; what would you more?

Eli. It is enough, my lord, and I am yours.

Since I well know my fortune is to have

you.

Now must I leave the pleasant maiden chase,

In hunting savage beasts with Isis' nymphs, And take me to a life which I, God knows, Do know no more than how to scale the heavens.

Count. Well, I'll teach you, fear not you; what, signior, not bite your thumbs? Brag. Pardon me, sir, pardon me.

Count. By God's blood, I will not pardon you; therefore bite your thumbs. Brag. By thy sweet let me speak one

.

word with thee: I do not like this humour in thee in pistoling men in this sort, it is a must dangerous and stigmatical humour; for, by thy favour, 'tis the most finest thing of the world for a man to have a most gentlemanlike carriage of himself, for otherwise I do hold thee for the most tali, resolute, and accomplished gentleman on the face of the earth; hark ye, we'll meet at Corrucus, and we'll have a pipe of tobacco. Adieu, adieu..

Count. Do you hear, sir? Put your thumbs in your mouth without any more ado; by the heavens, I'll shoot thee through the mouth.

Brag. It is base and ridiculous.

Count. Well, thou shalt not do it; lend me thy thumbs, I'll bite them for thee.

Brag. Pardon me.

Count. 'Swounds and you had I would have made such a woful parting betwixt your fingers and your thumb, that your Spanish fists should never meet again, in this world. Will you do it, sir?

Brag. I will, I will; presto and I will follow thee.

Count. Why so! Oh, that we had a noise of musicians to play to this antic as we

Come on, sweet lady, give me your
hands, we'll to church and be married
straight; bear with my haste now, I'll be
slow enough another time, I warrant you.
Come spaniola questo, questo, spaniola
questo.
[Exeunt.

Enter Ægiale, Herald, Euribates,
Clearchus with a picture.
Egi. Advance that picture on this fatal
spring,

And Herald, speak, uttering the king's edict.

He. Ptolemy, the most sacred king of Egypt, first of that name, desiring peace and amity with his neighbour princes, bath caused this picture of Cleanthes to be set up in all places, proposing great rewards to him that finds him, and threatening death to him that succours ban.

Ægi. Which gods forbid, and put it in
his mind

Not so to stomach his unjust exile
That he convert the fury of his arm,
Avainst forsaken Egypt taking part,
With those four neighbour kings that
threaten him,

And have besieged his most Imperial town. Clear. Now may it please your highIess to leave your discontented passions,

and take this morning's pride to hunt the boar.

Ia. We have attended on your grace thus far,

Out of the city, being glad to hear
Your highness had abandon'd discontent,
And now will bend yourself to merriment.
Ægi. So will I, lovely Ianthe, come
then,

Let us go call forth sacred Isis' nymphs To help us keep the game in ceaseless view,

That to the busy brightness of his eyes
We may so intervent his shifts to 'scape
That giddy with his turning he may fall,
Slain with our beauties more than swords
or darts.

[Exit with a sound of horns. Enter Leon with his sword.

Le. Now I am Leon, the rich usurer, And here, according to the king's command

And mine own promise, I have brought my sword,

And fix it by the statue she set up.
By this am I known to be Cleanthes,
Whose sudden sight I now will take upon

me,