Bel. Well, I'll leave you to your fortune; but, if you come to close fighting, I shall make bold to run in, and part you.

[BELLAMY and MASKALL, withdrawing.

Wild. Yonder she comes, with full sails i'faith! I'll hail her amain, for England.

Enter JACINTHA and BEATRIX, at the other end of the stage.

Beat. You do love him then?

Jac. Yes, most vehemently!

Beat. But set some bounds to your affection. Jac. None but fools confine their pleasure: What usurer ever thought his coffers held too much? No, I'll give myself the swing, and love without reserve. If I keep a passion, I'll not starve it in my

service.

Beat. But are you sure he will deserve this kindness?

Jac. I never trouble myself so long beforehand. Jealousies and disquiets are the dregs of an amour; but I'll leave mine before I have drawn it off so low. When it once grows troubled, I'll give vent to a fresh draught.

Beat. Yet it is but prudence to try him first; no pilot ventures on an unknown coast without sounding.

Jac. Well, to satisfy thee, I am content; partly, too, because I find a kind of pleasure in laying baits for him.

Beat. The two great virtues of a lover are constancy and liberality; if he possess those two, you may be happy in him.

Jac. Nay, if he be not lord and master of both those qualities, I disown him--But who goes there?

Beat. He, I warrant you, madam; for his servant told me he was waiting hereabout.

Jac. Watch the door; give me notice, if any

come.

Beat. I'll secure you, madam.

[Exit BEAT. Jac. [To WILD.] What, have you laid an ambush for me?

Wild. Only to make a reprisal of my heart.

Jac. 'Tis so wild, that the lady, who has it in her keeping, would be glad she were well rid on't, it does so flutter about the cage. 'Tis a mere Bajazet; and if it be not let out the sooner, will beat out its brains against the grates.

Wild. I am afraid the lady has not fed it, and 'tis wild for hunger.

Jac. Or, perhaps it wants company; shall she put another to it?

Wild. Ay; but then it were best to trust them out of the cage together; let them hop about at liberty.

Jac. But, if they should lose one another in the wide world!

Wild. They'll meet at night, I warrant them.

Jac. But is not your heart of the nature of those birds, that breed in one country, and go to winter in another?

Wild. Suppose it does so; yet, I take my mate along with me. And now, to leave our parables, and speak in the language of the vulgar, what think you of a voyage to merry England?

Jac. Just as Esop's frog did, of leaping into a deep well in a drought: If he ventured the leap, there might be water; but, if there were no water, how should he get out again?

Wild. Faith, we live in a good honest country, where we are content with our old vices; partly

because we want wit to invent more new. A colony of Spaniards, or spiritual Italians, planted among us, would make us much more racy. 'Tis true, our variety is not much; but, to speak nobly of our way of living, 'tis like that of the sun, which rises, and looks upon the same thing he saw yesterday, and goes to bed again.

Jac. But I hear your women live most blessedly; there is no such thing as jealousy among the husbands; if any man has horns, he bears them as loftily as a stag, and as inoffensively.

Wild. All this, I hope, gives you no ill character of the country?

Jac. But what need we go into another climate? as our love was born here, so let it live and die here, and be honestly buried in its native country.

propose

Wild. Faith, agreed with all my heart. For I am none of those unreasonable lovers, that to themselves the loving to eternity. The truth is, a month is commonly my stint; but, in that month, I love so dreadfully, that it is after a twelve-month's rate of common love.

Jac. Or, would not a fortnight serve our turn? for, in troth, a month looks somewhat dismally; 'tis a whole Egyptian year. If a moon changes in my love, I shall think my Cupid grown dull, or fallen into an apoplexy.

Wild. Well, I pray heaven we both get off as clear as we imagine; for my part, I like your humour so damnably well, that I fear I am in for a week longer than I proposed: I am half afraid your Spanish planet and my English one have been acquainted, and have found out some by-room or other in the twelve houses: I wish they have been honourable.

Jac. The best way for both were to take up in time; yet I am afraid our forces are engaged so

far, that we must make a battle on't. What think you of disobliging one another from this day forward; and shewing all our ill humours at the first, which lovers use to keep as a reserve, till they are married?

Wild. Or let us encourage one another to a breach, by the dangers of possession: I have a song to that purpose.

Jac. Pray let me hear it: I hope it will go to the tune of one of our Passa-calles.

SONG.

You charmed me not with that fair face,

Though it was all divine:

To be another's is the grace,

That makes me wish you mine.
The gods and fortune take their part,
Who, like young monarchs, fight,
And boldly dare invade that heart,
Which is another's right.
First, mad with hope, we undertake
To pull up every bar;

But, once possessed, we faintly make
A dull defensive war.

Now, every friend is turned a foe,

In hope to get our store:

And passion makes us cowards grow,

Which made us brace before.

Jac. Believe it, cavalier, you are a dangerous person: Do you hold forth your gifts, in hopes to make me love you less?

Wild. They would signify little, if we were once married: Those gaieties are all nipt and frost-bitten in the marriage-bed, i'faith.

Jac. I am sorry to hear 'tis so cold a place : But

5

tis all one to us, who do not mean to trouble it. The truth is, your humour pleases me exceedingly; how long it will do so, I know not; but so long as it does, I am resolved to give myself the content of seeing you. For, if I should once constrain myself, I might fall in love in good earnest: But I have stayed too long with you, and would be loth to surfeit you at first.

Wild. Surfeit me madam? why, you have but tantalized me all this while!

Jac. What would you have?

Wild. A hand, or lip, or any thing that you can spare; when you have conjured up a spirit, he must have some employment, or he'll tear you apieces.

Jac. Well, here's my picture, to help your contemplation in my absence.

Wild. You have already the original of mine: But some revenge you must allow me: A locket of diamonds, or some such trifle, the next time I kiss your hand.

Jac. Fie, fie! you do not think me mercenary? Yet, now I think on't, I'll put you into our Spanish mode of love: Our ladies here use to be the bankers of their servants, and to have their gold in keeping.

Wild. This is the least trial you could have made of me I have some three hundred pistoles by me; those I'll send by my servant.

Jac. Confess freely, you mistrust me: But if you find the least qualm about your gold, pray keep it for a cordial.

Wild. The cordial must be applied to the heart, and mine's with you, madam. Well; I say no more; but these are dangerous beginnings for holding on: I find my month will have more than oneand-thirty days in't.