May draw the poison out of him, and work
A friendly reconcilement: if it fail,

Yet it shall rid me of this infamous calling;
For better fall once, than be ever falling.

DELIO. I'll second you in all danger; and, howe'er,

My life keeps rank with yours.

ANT. You are still my lov'd and best friend.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter PESCARA and DOCTOR.

PES. Now, doctor, may I visit your patient?

Doc. If 't please your lordship: but he's instantly To take the air here in the gallery

By my direction.

PES. Pray thee, what's his disease?

Doc. A very pestilent disease, my lord, They call lycanthropia.

PES. What's that?

I need a dictionary to't?
Doc. I'll tell you.*

* I'll tell you, &c.] "Ceste Maladie, comme tesmoigne Aetius au sixiesme liure chapitre 11. & Paulus au 3. liu. chap. 16. & autres modernes, est une espece de melancholiè, mais estrangement noire & vehemente. Car ceux qui en sont atteints sortênt de leurs maisons au mois de Feurier, contrefont les loups presques en toute chose, & toute nuict ne font que courir par les cœmitieres et autour des sepulchres.

VOL. I.

vn de ces melancholiques Lycanthropes, que

U

In those that are possess'd with❜t there o'erflows
Such melancholy humour, they imagine
Themselves to be transformed into wolves;
Steal forth to church-yards in the dead of night,
And dig dead bodies up: as two nights since
One met the duke 'bout midnight in a lane
Behind St. Mark's church, with the leg of a man
Upon his shoulder, and he howl'd fearfully ;
Said he was a wolf, only the difference

Was, a wolf's skin was+ hairy on the outside,
His on the inside; bade them take their swords,
his flesh, and try: straight I was sent for,
And having minister'd unto him, found his grace
Very well recover'd.

Rip up

PES. I am glad on't.

nous appellons Loups garoux

sur ses espaules la cuisse entiere & la jambe d'vn mort

il portoit lors

Il y eust aussi, comme recite Job Fincel au 2. liu. des Miracles, vn villageois pres de Pauie, l'an mil cinq cens quarante & vn, lequel pensoit estre Loup, & assaillit plusieurs hommes par les champes: en tua quelques vns. En fin, prins & non sans grande difficulté, il asseura fermement, qu'il estoit loup, & qu'il n'y auoit autre difference, sinon que les loups ordinairement estoyent velus dehors, et lui l'estoit entre cuir et chair. Quelques vns trop inhumains & loups par effect, voulans experimenter la verite du faict, lui firent plusieurs raillades sur les bras & sur les jambes: puis connoissans leur faute, & l' innocence de ce pauure melancholique, le commirent aux chirurgiens pour le penser, entre les mains desquels il mourut quelques iours apres." Goulart.-Histoires admirables et memorables de nostre temps, recueillies de plusieurs autheurs, &c. tom. 1. p. 336-337. ed. 1620. *those] The 4to. of 1640, "these."

twas] The 4to. of 1640, " is."

Doc. Yet not without some fear

Of a relapse. If he grow to his fit again,
I'll go a nearer way to work with him*

Than ever Paracelsus dream'd of; if

They'll give me leave, I'll buffet his madness out of him.

Stand aside; he comes.

Enter FERDINAND, CARDINAL, MALATESTE, and BosOLA.

FERD. Leave me.

MAL. Why doth your lordship love this solitariness?

FERD. Eagles commonly fly alone: they are crows, daws, and starlings that flock together. Look, what's that follows me?

MAL. Nothing, my lord.

FERD. Yes.

MAL. 'Tis your shadow.

FERD. Stay it; let it not haunt me.

MAL. Impossible, if you move, and the sun shine. FERD. I will throttle it.

MAL. O, my lord, you are angry with nothing. FERD. You are a fool: how is't possible I should catch my shadow, unless I fall upon't? When I go to hell, I mean to carry a bribe; for, look you, good gifts evermore make way for the worst persons.

PES. Rise, good my lord.

FERD. I am studying the art of patience.

* I'll go a nearer way to work with him] This line is found only in the 4to. of 1623.

t love) The 4to. of 1640 " use."

PES. 'Tis a noble virtue.

FERD. To drive six snails before me from this town to Moscow; neither use goad nor whip to them, but let them take their own time;-(the patient'st man i'th' world match me for an experiment) and I'll erawl after like a sheep-biter.

CARD. Force him up.

FERD. Use me well, you were best.

have done, I have done: I'll confess nothing.

What I

Doc. Now let me come to him.—Are you mad,

my lord? are you out of your princely wits? FERD. What's he?

PES. Your doctor.

FERD. Let me have his beard sawed off, and his eye-brows filed more civil.

Doc. I must do mad tricks with him, for that's the only way on't.—I have brought your grace a salamander's skin, to keep you from sun-burning.

FERD. I have cruel sore eyes.

Doc. The white of a cockatrix's egg is present remedy.

FERD. Let it be a new-laid one, you were best. Hide me from him: physicians are like kings, they brook no contradiction.

Doc. Now he begins to fear me: now let me alone with him.

What I have done, I have done: I'll confess nothing] Like Iago's;

"Demand me nothing; what you know, you know ;
From this time forth I never will speak word."
Othello, Act V. last scene.

CARD. How now? put off your gown!*

Doc. Let me have some forty urinals filled with rose-water: he, and I'll go pelt one another with them.-Now he begins to fear me.-Can you fetch a frisk, sir?-Let him go, let him go upon my peril: I find by his eye he stands in awe of me; I'll make him as tame as a dormouse.

FERD. Can you fetch your frisks, sir! I will stamp him into a cullis, flea off his skin, to cover one of the anatomies this rogue hath set i'th' cold yonder in Barber-Chirurgeon's-hall. Hence, hence! you are all of you like beasts for sacrifice: there's nothing left of you, but tongue and belly, flattery and lechery. [Exit.

PES. Doctor, he did not fear you throughly. Doc. True; I was somewhat too forward. Bos. Mercy upon me, what a fatal judgment Hath fal'n upon this Ferdinand!

PES. Knows your grace

What accident hath brought unto the prince
This strange distraction?

CARD. I must feign somewhat:-Thus they say

it grew.

You have heard it rumour'd for these many years, None of our family dies but there is seen

put off your gown] A piece of buffoonery, similar to that with which the Grave-digger in Hamlet still amuses the galleries, used to be practised here; for in the 4to. of 1708, the Doctor, according to the stage-direction, "puts off his four cloaks, one after another."