Of what concerns our selves. 'Tis now in fashion
To have your Gallants set down in a Tavern,
What the Arch-Dukes purpose is the next spring, and what
Defence my Lords (the States) prepare: what course
The Emperour takes against the encroaching Turk,
And whether his Moony-standards are design'd
For Persia or Polonia: and all this
The wiser sort of State-Worms seem to know
Better than their own affairs: this is discourse
Fit for the Council it concerns; we are young,
And if that I might give the Theme, 'twere better
To talk of handsome Women.
Mil.
And that's one,
Almost as general.
Ars.
Yet none agree
Who are the fairest.
Lean.
Some prefer the French,
For their conceited Dressings: some the plump
Italian Bona-Robas, some the State
That ours observe; and I have heard one swear,
(A merry friend of mine) that once in London,
He did enjoy the company of a Gamester,
(A common Gamester too) that in one night
Met him th' Italian, French, and Spanish wayes,
And ended in the Dutch; for to cool her self,
She kiss'd him drunk in the morning.
Fam.
We may spare
The travel of our tongues in forraign Nations,
When in Corduba, if you dare give credit
To my report (for I have seen her, Gallants)
There lives a Woman (of a mean birth too,
And meanly match'd) whose all-excelling Form
Disdains comparison with any She
That puts in for a fair one, and though you borrow
From every Country of the Earth the best
Of those perfections, which the Climat yields
To help to make her up, if put in Ballance,
This will weigh down the Scale.
Lean.
You talk of wonders.
Jam.
She is indeed a wonder, and so kept,
And, as the world deserv'd not to behold
What curious Nature made without a pattern,
Whose Copy she hath lost too, she's shut up,
Sequestred from the world.
Lean.
Who is the owner
Of such a Jem? I am fire'd.
Jam.
One Bartolus,
A wrangling Advocate.
Ars.
A knave on Record.
Mil.
I am sure he cheated me of the best part
Of my Estate.
Jam.
Some Business calls me hence,
(And of importance) which denies me leisure
To give you his full character: In few words
(Though rich) he's covetous beyond expression,
And to encrease his heap, will dare the Devil,
And all the plagues of darkness: and to these
So jealous, as if you would parallel
Old Argus to him, you must multiply
His Eyes an hundred times: of these none sleep.
He that would charm the heaviest lid, must hire
A better Mercurie, than Jove made use of:
Bless your selves from the thought of him and her,
For 'twill be labour lost: So farewel Signiors.—
[Exit.
Ars.
Leandro? in a dream? wake man for shame.
Mil.
Trained into a fools paradise with a tale
Of an imagin'd Form.
Lea.
Jamie is noble,
And with a forg'd Tale would not wrong his Friend,
Nor am I so much fir'd with lust as Envie,
That such a churl as Bartolus should reap
So sweet a harvest, half my State to any
To help me to a share.
Ars.
Tush do not hope for
Impossibilities.
Lea.
I must enjoy her,
And my prophetique love tells me I shall,
Lend me but your assistance.
Ars.
Give it o're.
Mil.
I would not have thee fool'd.
Lea. I have strange Engines
Fashioning here: and Bartolus on the Anvil,
Disswade me not, but help me.
Mil.
Take your fortune,
If you come off well, praise your wit; if not,
Expect to be the subject of our Laughter.
[Exeunt.
SCENA II
Enter Octavio, and Jacinta.
Jac.
You met Don Henrique?
Oct.
Yes.
Jac.
What comfort bring you?
Speak cheerfully: how did my letter work
On his hard temper? I am sure I wrote it
So feelingly, and with the pen of sorrow,
That it must force Compunction.
Oct.
You are cozen'd;
Can you with one hand prop a falling Tower?
Or with the