Son. Tis granted.

Hold up your heads, and thank the Gentleman,
Like scholars, with your heels now.

All three. Gratias, gratias, gratias.

(Exeunt singing.)

THE ASPARAGUS GARDEN: A COMEDY. BY THE
SAME AUTHOR. 1634.

Private Conference.

Father-in-Law. You'll not assault me in my own house, nor urge me beyond my patience with your borrowing attempts.

Spendthrift Knight. I have not used the word of loan or borrowing :

Only some private conference I requested.

Fath. Private conference! a new-coined word for borrowing of money. I tell you, your very face, your countenance, tho' it be glossed with knighthood, looks so borrowingly, that the best words you give me are as dreadful as Stand and Deliver.-Your riotousness abroad, and her long night-watchings at home, shortened my daughter's days, and cast her into her grave; and 'twas not long before all her estate was buried too.

Spend. I wish my life might have excused
Her's far more precious; never had a man
A juster cause to mourn.

Fath. Nor mourn'd more justly, it is your only wearing; you have just none other; nor have had any means to purchase better any time these seven years, I take it; by which means you have got the name of the Mourning Knight.

TIMOTHY HOYDEN, the Yeoman's Son, desires to be made a Gentleman. He consults with his friends.

Moneylack. Well, Sir, we will take the speediest course with you.

Hoyd. But must I bleed?

Mon. Yes, you must bleed; your father's blood

must out.

He was but a Yeoman, was he?

Hoyd. As rank a Clown (none dispraised) as any in Somersetshire.

Mon. His foul rank blood of bacon and pease porritch

Must out of you to the last dram

Springe. Fear nothing, Sir.

Your blood shall be taken out by degrees; and your veins replenished with pure blood still, as you lose the puddle.

Hoyd. I was bewitch'd, I think, before I was begot, to have a Clown to my father. Yet my mother said she was a Gentlewoman.

Spr. Said! what will not women say?

Mon. Be content, Sir; here's half a labour saved:

you shall bleed but of one side.

not be pricked.

The Mother vein shall

Old STRIKER, after a quarrelling bout with old TOUCHWOOD.

Touchwood. I have put him into these fits this forty years, and hope to choke him at last. (Aside; and exit.)

Striker. Huh, huh, huh! so he is gone, the villain's gone in hopes that he has killed me, when my comfort is he has recovered me. I was heart-sick with a conceit, which lay so mingled with my flegm, that I had

perished if I had not broke it, and made me spit it out: hem, he is gone, and I'll home merrily. I would not he should know the good he has done me for half my estate; nor would I be at peace with him to save it all. I would not lose his hatred for all the good neighbourhood of the parish.

His malice works upon me

Past all the drugs and all the Doctor's counsels,
That e'er I coped with; he has been my vexation
E'er since my wife died; if the rascal knew it,
He would be friends, and I were instantly
But a dead man; I could not get another
To anger me so handsomely.

SIR RICHARD FANSHAW'S TRANSLATION OF " QUERER POR SOLO QUERER"-" TO LOVE FOR LOVE'S SAKE:" A ROMANTIC DRAMA, WRITTEN IN SPANISH BY MENDOZA. 1649.

Felisbravo, Prince of Persia, from a Picture sent him of the Brave Amazonian Queen of Tartary, Zelidaura, becoming enamoured, sets out for that realm; in his way thither disenchants a Queen of Araby; but first, overcome by fatigue, falis asleep in the Enchanted Grove, where Zilidaura herself coming by, steals the Picture from him. The passion of the Romance arises from his remorse at being taken so negligent; and her disdain that he should sleep, having the company of her Picture. She here plays upon him, who does not yet know her, in the disguise of a Rustic.

Fel. What a spanking Labradora!

Zel. You, the unkent Knight, God ye gud mora
Fel. The time of day thou dost mistake.

She affects rusticity.

Zel. That I discover,

By a sure sign, you are awake.

Fel. Awake? the sign-
Zel. Your being a lover.
Fel. In love am I?

Zel. and very deep.

Fel. Deep in love? how is that seen!
Zel. Perfectly. You do not sleep.

Fel. Rustic Excellence, unscreen,

And discover that sweet face,
Which covers so much wit and grace.
Zel. You but dream so: sleep again,
And forget it.

Fel. Why, now, Saint?

Zel. Why, the Lady, that went in *,

Looks as if that she did paint.

Fel. What has that to do with sleeping?

She is indeed angelical.

Zel. That picture now's well worth your keeping.

For why? 'tis an original.

Fel. Is this Shepherdess a Witch?

Or saw the sleeping treason, which
I committed against Love
Erst, in the Enchanted Grove?

Me hast thou ever seen before?

Zel. Seen? aye, and know thee for a man That will turn him, and sleep more

Than a dozen dunces can.

Thou ken'st little what sighs mean.

Fel. Unveil, by Jove, that face serene.
Zel. What, to make thee sleep again?

The Enchanted Queen of Araby, of whom Zelidaura is jealous.

Fel. Still in riddles?

Zel. Now he sees:

This pinching wakes him by degrees.
Fel. Art thou a Nymph?

Zel. Of Parnass Green.

Fel. Sleep I indeed, or am I mad?

Zel. None serve thee but the Enchanted Queen?

I think what dull conceits ye have had

Of the bird Phoenix, which no eye
E'er saw; an odoriferous Lye:

How of her beauty's spells she's told;
That by her spirit thou art haunted;
And, having slept away the old,

With this new Mistress worse enchanted.

Fel. I affect not, Shepherdess, Myself in such fine terms to express;

Sufficeth me an humble strain :

Too little happy to be vain.—

Unveil !

Zel. Sir Gallant, not so fast.

Fel. See thee I will.

Zel. See me you shall :'

But touch not fruit you must not taste.

(She takes off her veil.)

What says it, now the leaf doth fall?
Fel. It says, 'tis worthy to comprize

The kernel of so rare a wit:
Nor, that it grows in Paradise;

But Paradise doth grow in it.

The tall and slender trunk no less divine,
Tho' in a lowly Shepherdesses rine.

(He begins to know her.)

This should be that so famous Queen
For unquell'd valour and disdain.—
In these Enchanted Woods is seen