Is made worth heav'n.' Thou art virtue, fame, Honour, and all things elfe. Who can get thee, He fhall be noble, valiant, honeft, wife

Mof. And what he will, Sir. Riches are in fortune A greater good, than wifdom is in nature.

Vol. True, my beloved Mofca. Yet I glory
More in the cunning purchase of my wealth,
Than in the glad poffeffion, fince I gain
No common way; I ufe no trade, no venture;
I wound no earth with plow-fhares; I fat no beaft
To feed the fhambles; have no mills for iron,
• Oil, corn, or men, to grind them into powder;
I blow no fubtil glafs, expofe no fhips

To threatnings of the furrow-faced fea;'
I turn no monies in the public bank,
Nor ufure private.

Mof. No, Sir, nor devour

Soft prodigals. You fhall ha' fome will fwallow
A melting heir as glibly as your Dutch
Will pills of butter, and ne'er purge for't;
Tear forth the fathers of poor families

Out of their beds, and coffin them alive

• In fome kind clasping prifon, where their bones
May be forth-coming, when the flesh is rotten :'
But your fweet nature doth abhor these courses ;
You loath the widow's or the orphan's tears

Should wash your pavements, or their piteous cries
Ring in your roofs, and beat the air for vengeance.
Vol. Right, Mofca. I do loath it.

Mof. And befides, Sir,

You are not like a thresher that doth ftand
With a huge flail, watching a heap of corn,
And, hungry, dares not tafte the fmallest grain,
But feeds on mallows, and fuch bitter herbs;
Nor like the merchant, who hath fill'd his vaults
• With Romagnia, and rich Canadian wines,
. Yet drinks the lees of Lombards vinegar:
• You will not lie in ftraw, while moths and worms
Feed on your fumptuous hangings and foft beds,"
You know the use of riches, and dare give now
From that bright heap, to me your poor obferver,
Or to your dwarf, or your hermaphrodite,

Your

Your eunuch, or what other houshold trifle
Your pleasure allows maintenance

Vol. Hold thee, Mofca,

Take of

my

hand; thou ftrik'st on truth in all, And they are envious term thee parafite.

Call forth my dwarf, my eunuch, and my fool,
And let them make me sport. What fhould I do,
But cocker up my genius, and live free
To all delights my fortune calls me to?
I have no wife, no parent, child, ally,
To give my fubftance to; but whom I make
Muft be my heir; and this makes men observe me ;
This draws new clients daily to my house,

• Women and men, of every sex and age,'
That bring me prefents, fend me plate, coin; jewels,
With hope that when I die (which they expect
Each greedy minute) it shall then return
Ten-fold upon them; whilst fome, covetous
• Above the reft, fee to engross me whole,

And counter-work the one unto the other,
• Contend in gifts, as they would feem in love:
All which I fuffer, playing with their hopes,
And am content to coin them into profit,

And look upon their kindness, and take more,
And look on that; ftill bearing them in hand,"
Letting the cherry knock against their lips,

And draw it by their mouths and back again. How now!'

A DANCE.

Enter Nano, Androgyno, and Caftrone.

Nan. Now room for fresh gamefters, who do will you to know,

They do bring you neither play, nor univerfity show; And therefore do intreat you, that whatsoever they rehearfe,

May not fare a whit the worfe, for the falfe pace of the verse.

• If you wonder at this, you will wonder more e'er we pass, For know, here is inclos'd the foul of Pythagoras, That juggler divine, as hereafter shall follow; • Which foul (fast and loose, Sir) came first from Apollo,

And

And was breath'd into thalides, Mercurius's fon,

• Where it had the gift to remember all that ever was done. • From thence it fled forth, and made quick tranfmigration, To goldy-lock'd Euphorbus, who was kill'd in good fashion,

At the fiege of old Troy, by the cuckold of Sparta. Hermotimus was next, (I find it in my charta)

• To whom it did pafs, where no fooner it was miffing, • But with one Pyrrhus of Delos it learn'd to go a fishing; And thence did it enter the fophift of Greece.

From Pythagore, he went into a beautiful piece,

Hight Aipalia the Meretrix; and the next tofs of her Was again of a whore, he became a philofopher, Crates the Cynic (as itself doth relate it)

Since kings, knights and beggars, knaves, lords and fools gat it,

Befides ox and afs, camel, mule, goat and brock, • In all which it hath fpoke, as in the cobler's cock. But I come not here to difcourfe of that matter, Or his one, two, or three, or his great oath, By Quater. His mufics, his trigon, his golden thigh,

Or his telling how elements fhift; but I

Would ask, how of late thou haft fuffer'd tranflation, And fhifted thy coat in these days of reformation? And. Like one of the reform'd, a fool, as you see, Counting all old doctrine herefy.

Nan. But not on thine own forbid meats haft thou ventur'd?

And. On fish, when first a Carthufian I enter'd. Nan. Why, then thy dogmatical filence hath left thee? • And. Of that an obftreperous lawyer bereft me. Nan. Oh, wonderful change! When Sir Lawyer forfook thee,

For Pythagore's fake, what body then took thee? • And. A good dull moyl.

• Nan.
And how! by that means
Thou wert brought to allow of the eating of beans?
• And. Yes.

Nan. But from the moyl into whom didft thou pafs?
And. Into a very ftrange beaft, by fome writers call'd

an afs;

By others, a precife, pure, illuminate brother, • Of thofe devour flesh, and fometimes one another; • And will drop you forth a libel, or a fanctify'd lie, 'Betwixt every fpoonful of a nativity-pie.

• Nan. Now quit thee, for heav'n, of that profane nation,

And gently report thy next tranfmigration.
And. To the fame that I am.

• Nan.

A creature of delight? And (what is more than a fool) an hermaphrodite ? Now, pr'ythee, fweet foul, in all thy variation, Which body would't thou choose, to keep up thy ftation? And. Troth, this I am in; even here would I tarry. Nan. Caufe here the delight of each fex thou can't vary?

And. Alas, thofe pleasures be ftale and forfaken; 'No, 'tis your fool wherewith I am fo taken, • The only one creature that I can call bleffed; For all other forms I have prov'd most distressed. Nan. Spoke true, as thou wert in Pythagoras ftill, This learned opinion we celebrate will,

'Fellow eunuch (it behoves us) with all our wit and art, To dignify that whereof ourselves are fo great and fpecial a part.'

Vol. Now, very, very pretty. Mofca, this Was thy invention ?

Mof. If it please my patron,

Not elfe.

Vel. It doth, good Mosca.
Mof. Then it was, Sir.

SONG.

Fools they are the only nation
Worth men's envy or admiration
Free from care or forrow-taking,
• Selves and others merry making:
All they fpeak or do is sterling.

Your fool he is your great man's darling,
And your ladies fport and pleafure;

Tongue

and babble are his treasure.

• E'en

E'en his face begetteth laughter,
And he speaks truth free from flaughter;
• He's the grace of every feast;
And fometimes the chiefeft gueft;
Hath his trencher and his ftool,
When wit waits upon the fool.
Oh, who would not be
'He, he, he?

One knocks without.

Vol. Who's that? Away; look, Mofca.

Maf. Fool, begone;' 'tis Signior Voltore the advocate, I know him by his knock.

[Excunt Nano, Androgyno, and Caftrone.

Vol. Fetch me my gown,

My furs, and night-caps; fay, my couch's changing;
And let him entertain himself a while

Without i'th' gallery. [Ext Mof.] Now, now, my clients.
Begin their vifitation! Vulture, kite,

Raven, gorcrow, all my birds of prey,

That think me turning carcafs, now they come:
I am not for them yet.

How now the news?

Enter Mofca.

Mof. A piece of plate, Sir.

Vol. Of what bigness?

Mof. Huge,

Maffy, and antique, with your name infcrib'd,

And arms engraven.

Vol. Good! and not a fox

Stretch'd on the earth, with fine delufive fleights,
Mocking a gaping crow? Ha! Mofca.

Mof. Sharp, Sir.

Vol. Give me my furs. Why doft thou laugh fo, man è
Mof. I cannot choose, Sir, when I apprehend

What thoughts he has (without) now, as he walks:
That this might be the laft gift he should give;
That this would fetch you; if you died to day,
And gave him all, what he fhould be to-morrow;
What large return would come of all his ventures;
How he fhould worshipp'd be, and reverenc'd;
Ride with his furs and foot-clothes; waited on
By herds of fools and clients; ' have clear

way

Made