Loud noisy talking on the fifth attends;
The sixth breeds feuds and falling-out of friends;
Seven begets blows and faces stain'd with gore;
Eight, and the watch-patrole breaks ope the door;
Mad with the ninth, another cup goes round,
And the swill'd sot drops senseless to the ground.

II. (P.73.)

CUMBERLAND.

Why, foolish painter, give those wings to Love?
Love is not light, as my sad heart can prove:
Love hath no wings, or none that I can see;
If he can fly-oh! bid him fly from me!

10

Let not his fingers touch the public chest,

Who by his own profusion is distrest;

For long long years of care it needs must take

To heal those wounds, which one short hour will make.

EUBULUS

EUPHRON.]

CUMBERLAND.

V. (P.76.)

Wretch! find new gods to witness to new lies,
Thy perjuries have made the old too wise.

CUMBERLAND.

MNESIMACHUS.

I. (P.77.)

Dost know whom thou'rt to sup with, friend?—I'll tell thee;

With gladiators, not with peaceful guests;

Instead of knives we're arm'd with naked swords,

And swallow firebrands in the place of food:
Daggers of Crete are serv'd us for confections,
And for a plate of pease a fricassee

Of shatter'd spears: the cushions we repose on
Are shields and breast-plates, at our feet a pile
Of slings and arrows, and our foreheads wreath'd
With military ensigns, not with myrtle.

Know'st thou with whom thou hast to deal?
On sharpen'd swords we make our meal;
The dripping torch, snapdragon-wise,
Our burning beverage supplies;

And Cretic shafts, as sweetmeats stored,
Form the dessert upon our board,
With tid-bits of split javelin:
Pillow'd on breast-plates we recline;
Strew'd at our feet are slings and bows,
And crown'd with catapults our brows.

CUMBERLAND.

Herken my word: wote thou, leve1 brother min,
Thou shulde in certaine thys daie wyth us din.
Bright swerdes and eke browne our vittaile been;
Torches we glot for sowle3, that fyerie bren.

10

5

5

10

WRANGHAM.

[EUPHRON-MNESIMACHUS.

5

Eftsone the page doth sette upon our bord,
Yfette fro Crete, kene arwes long and broad;
No fetches do we ete, but speres shente,
That gadred ben fro blood ydrenched bente7,
The silver targe, and perced habergeon ",
Been that, whan sonne is set, we lig9 upon.
On bowes reste our fete whan that we slepe,
With katapultes crownde, so heie hem clepe1o.

W. W.

any thing eaten with bread. 7 side of a hill.

2 devour.

5

arrows.

6 shattered.

8 coat of mail.

9 lie.

10 they them call.

5

10

II. (P. 78.)

MASTER. Hark ye, fellow! make the best of your way to Phidon's riding-school (your road lies through the cypress-grove burying-place to the forum by the public baths, where our tribunes hold their meetings) and tell those pretty gentlemen, who are there at their exercises of vaulting on their horses and off their horses (you know well enough whom I mean) tell 'em, I say, that supper is grown cold, their liquor hot, their pastry dry, their bread stale, their roast done to powder, their salt-meat stript from the very bones, their tripes, chitterlings, sausages and stuft-puddings mangled and devoured by guests, who are beforehand with 'em: the glass has gone round, and the wine is nearly out; the company are at their frolics, and the house thrown out of the windows-Now mark and remember every syllable I have said to you-Dost yawn, rascal?-Let me hear if you can repeat the message I have given you.

SERVANT. From the first word to the last, as you shall witness. I am to bid those sparks come home and not loiter till the cook makes plunder of the broken victuals; I am to say the boil'd and the roast are ready; I am to reckon up their bill of fare, their onions, olives, garlick, coleworts, gourds, beans, lettuce, knot-grass; their salted tunny-fish, their shad, sturgeon, soals, conger, purple-fish and black-fish, (both whole ones) their anchovy, mackarel, fresh tunny, gudgeons, rock-fish, dog-fish tails, cramp-fish, frog-fish, perch, baccalao, sardin, seaweed-fish, seaMNESIMACHUS.]

urchin, surmullet, cuckow-fish, pastinaca, lamprey, barbel, greymullet, lebias, sparus, char, Ælian-fish, Thracian-fish, swallow-fish, prawns, calamary, flounder, shrimps, polypody, cuttle-fish, orphus, lobster, crab, bleak, needle-fish, sprats, sea-scorpion, and grigg— I am to put them in mind of their roasts without number, of their goose, pork, beef, lamb, mutton, goat, kid, pullet, duck, swan, partridge, bergander, and a thousand more-I am to warn them that their messmates are already fast by the teeth, chewing, gnawing, cutting, carving, boiling, roasting, laughing, playing, dancing, junketing, drinking, mobbing, scuffling, boxing, battling,— that the pipers are at their sport; every body singing, chorussing, clamouring, whilst the house smoaks with the odours of cinnamon, frankincense, myrrh, sweet-cane, storax, aloes, ambergrise, musk, camphire, cassia, and a flood of all other exquisite perfumes.

CUMBERLAND.

MOSCHIO.

I. (P. 92.)

Let the earth cover and protect its dead!
And let man's breath thither return in peace
From whence it came; his spirit to the skies,
His body to the clay of which 'twas form'd,
Imparted to him as a loan for life,
Which he and all must render back again
To earth, the common mother of mankind.

II. III. IV. (Pp. 93. 94.)

Wound not the soul of a departed man!
'Tis impious cruelty; let justice strike
The living, but in mercy spare the dead.
And why pursue a shadow that is past?
Why slander the deaf earth, that cannot hear,

CUMBERLAND.

5

5

MNESIMACHUS-MOSCHIO.

The dumb, that cannot utter? When the soul
No longer takes account of human wrongs,
Nor joys nor sorrows touch the mouldering heart.
As well you may give feeling to the tomb,
As what it covers-both alike defy you.

Sek nat the holie ded for to diffame;
Upon the quik, nat ded, go pass thy blame.-

NICOSTRATUS. (P. 95.)

If this incessant chattering be your plan,
I would ye were a swallow, not a man!

PHOENICIDES. (P. 95.)

So help me Venus! as I'm fairly sick,
Sick to the soul, my Pythias, of this trade:-
No more on't! I'll be no man's mistress, I:
Don't talk to me of Destiny; I've done with't;
I'll hear no prophecies-for mark me well-
No sooner did I buckle to this business,

10

CUMBERLAND.

W. W.

CUMBERLAND.

5

Than straight behold! a Man of War assail'd me—
He told me of his battles o'er and o'er,

Shew'd me good stock of scars, but none of cash,

10

No, not a doit-but still he vapour'd much
Of what a certain Prince would do, and talk'd
Of this and that commission-in the clouds,
By which he gull'd me of a twelvemonth's hope,
Liv'd at free cost, and fed me upon love.
At length I sent my man of valour packing,
MOSCHIONICOSTRATUS-PHŒNICIDES. ]