Continued from p. 100.

Franc. A ftrange fellow this.

Delpe. I, is it not? come Sir, wine we see you have: Prethee let's taft the best.

Hoft. That you shall Sir;

If you'l hear Musick, and a Song with't,

I'm ready: you shall want nothing here.

Sings.

Yee may Tipple, and Tipple, and Tipple all out,
Till yee baffle the Stars, and the Sun face about.

Delpe. Away with your Drunken songs, have you nothing fitter to please the Ladies?

Hoft. Yes Sir.

Delpe. Come away with it then.

Hoft Sings.

Colig. Moft Excellent ifaith! Here's to thee honest fellow with all my heart; nay stay a little, this is very good VVine; here's to thee again--heark you honeft fellow, let me speak with you aside. D'ye Count here by pieces or d'ye treat by the head?

Hoft. I'l treat by the head Sir, if you please; a Crown a head, and you shall have excellent cheer, VVine as much as you can drink.

Colig. That's honestly said; you know my father friend, tis Mounfieur Cortaux.

Hoft. Yes Sir, the famous Scrivener here of Tours.

Colig. VVell, treat us very well, I'l see thee pay'd.

Hoft. Nay Sir, I'l see myself pay'd, I'l warrant you, before you and I part.

Colig. I do mean it so honest friend, but prethee speak not a word to the Gentlemen, for then you quite disgrace, Sir, your most humble Servant.

Hoft. Mum, a word to the wife is enough.

Colig. Come, come, Friend where's the Capon of Bruges you laft spoke of?

Hoft. Here at hand Sir, Wife undo my Helmet, this, Sir, Is my Creft.

Delp. A very improper one for a marri'd man.

Colig. Yes faith and troth, he should have had horns, ha, ha, ha, Here's to yee noble Captain; a very good jest

As I am a Gentleman:

D'elp. I thank you Sir!

Colig. Methink's you are melancholly, Sir!

La'ma. Not I Sir, I can affure you: Lady's how

Like ye the sport, an odd Collation, but well

Contriv'd.

Fran. The contrivance is all in all.

Concluded at p. 106.

BAYES. Phoo! that is to raise the character of Drawcanfir.

JOHNS. O' my word, that was well thought on.

BAYES. Now, Sir, I'l fhew you a Scene indeed; or rather, indeed, the Scene of Scenes. "Tis an Heroick Scene.

SMI. And pray, Sir, what is your design in this Scene? BAYES. Why, Sir, my defign is Roman Cloaths, guilded Truncheons, forc'd conceipt, smooth Verse, and a Rant: In fine, if this Scene does not take, I gad, I'l write no more. Come, come in, Mr.- -anay, come in as many as you can. Gentlemen, I must defire you to remove a little, for I must fill the Stage. SMI. Why fill the Stage?

BAYES. O, Sir, because your Heroick Verse never founds well, but when the Stage is full.

SCENA II.

Enter Prince Pretty-man, and Prince Volfcius.
Ay, hold, hold; pray by your leave a little.
Look you, Sir, the drift of this Scene is
fomewhat more than ordinary: for I make
'em both fall out because they are not in
love with the fame woman.

SMI. Not in love? you mean, I suppose, because they are in love, Mr. Bayes?

BAYES. No, Sir; I fay not in love: there's a new conceipt for you. Now, speak.

Pret. Since fate, Prince Volfcius, has found out the

way

For our fo long'd-for meeting here this day, Lend thy attention to my grand concern. Vols. I gladly would that story of thee learn; But thou to love dost, Pretty-man, incline : Yet love in thy breaft is not love in mine. BAYES. Antithefis thine and mine.

Concluded from p. 104.

Maria. What makes my Brother kneel, look, look Sifter.
Colig. Here's a health to our noble Colonel,
Gentlemen, ye fee 'tis a good one!

D'elp. Yes, and a large one, but if both drink it

How shall we lead your Sifters home!

Colig. No matter, Hem : here 'tis Gentlemen, super Naculum. Come, come a Tansey Sirrah quickly.

D'elp. Has pos'd ye there mine Hoft.

Hoft. That's as time shall try, look ye here Sir.

The lining of my Cap is good for something.

La'mar. Faith this was unlook'd for.

D'elp. S'fifh I think all his apparel is made of commendable Stuff; has he not Ginger-bread-shoes on.

Hoft. No truly Sir: 'tis feldom call'd for in a Tavern,

Colig. Nay I've no need on't, faith thou art a brave Fellow Here's mine Hoft's health Gentlemen.

D'elp. Could you procure these Ladies a dish of Cream Sir, this will fhew your Mafter-piece!

Hoft. 'Tis the only weapon I fight at ; look ye Gentlemen the thunder has melted my fword

In the fcabbard, But 'tis good, taste it.

D'elp. Th' aft my Verdict to be the wonder of Hosts, Shalt have a Patent for't if I have any

Power at Court.

T. PORTER.

The Villain. Act iii. Sc. i. pp. 47-50. Ed. 1663.

Pret. Since love it self's the fame, why should it be Diff'ring in you from what it is in me?

BAYES. Reasoning; I gad, I love reasoning in verse.
Vols. Love takes, Cameleon-like, a various dye
From every Plant on which it self does lye.
BAYES. Simile!

Pret. Let not thy love the course of Nature fright:
Nature does most in harmony delight.
Vols. How weak a Deity would Nature prove
Contending with the pow'rful God of Love?
BAYES. There's a great Verse !

Vols. If Incense thou wilt offer at the Shrine
Of mighty Love, burn it to none but mine.
Her Rofie-lips external sweets exhale;

And her bright flames make all flames else look pale. BAYES. I gad, that is right.

Pret. Perhaps dull Incense may thy love fuffice; But mine must be ador'd with Sacrifice.

All hearts turn ashes which her eyes controul : The Body they confume as well as Soul. Vols. My love has yet a power more Divine; Victims her Altars burn not, but refine: Amid'ft the flames they ne'er give up the Ghost, But, with her looks, revive still as they roast. In fpite of pain and death, they're kept alive: Her fiery eyes makes 'em in fire survive. BAYES. That is as well as I can do. Vols. Let my Parthenope at length prevail. BAYES. Civil, I gad.

Pret. I'l fooner have a passion for a Whale :

In whofe vast bulk, though ftore of Oyl doth lye,
We find more shape more beauty in a Fly.

SMI. That's uncivil, I gad.

BAYES. Yes; but as far a fetch'd fancie, though, I gad, as ever you saw.

1 Maximin. Thou ly'ft:-there's not a God inhabits there,

But for this Christian would all Heav'n forfwear.
Ev'n Jove would try more shapes her Love to win :
And in new birds, and unknown beasts would fin ;
At least, if Jove could love like Maximin.

J. DRYDEN, Tyrannick Love, Act ii. p. 19. Ed. 1670.

2(a) Maximin. Stay; if thou speak'st that word, thou speak'ft thy laft:

Some God now, if he dares, relate what's past:

Say but he's dead, that God shall mortal be.

Idem, Act i. p. 7. Ed. 1670. (b) Maximin. Provoke my rage no farther, left I be Reveng'd at once upon the Gods and thee.

Idem, Act i. p. 9. Ed. 1670.