If you desire no more, and keep it strictly, [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Room in the Landlady's House. Enter PETER and ANTHONY. Peter, Nay, the old woman's gone too. Among the gutters: But, conceive me, Peter, Peter, Where they should be I do conceive; but where they are,good AnthonyAnth. Ay, there it goes: My master's bo-peeps with me, With his sly popping in and out again, They bear up with some carvel.9 Anth. I do believe thee, For thou hast such a master for that chase, That 'till he spends his main-mast Peter. Pray remember Your courtesy, good Anthony, and withal, How long 'tis since your master sprung a leak ; He had a sound one since he came. Anth. Hark! Peter. What? [Lute sounds within. Carvel.] An old-fashioned ship used by the Spaniards. See vol. II. p. 22. Anth. Dost not hear a lute? Again! Anth. Above, in my master's chamber. Peter. There's no creature; He hath the key himself, man. Anth. This is his lute;' Let him have it. [Singing within. Peter. I grant you; but who strikes it? SONG. [Within.] Merciless Love, whom nature hath denied 'Ant. This is his lute: Let him have it.] The song was inserted before this line in the two former editions. The reason of the change of its place is very plain. Seward. The song, like many others in this collection, was first inserted in the second folio; where the only stage direction is-Lute sounds within. This is also in the first, where opposite to the words "This is his lute," &c. we have the following there-Sing within a little, and afterwards at the words-" Let it be," Sing again. Probably the song was divided originally, and different portions of it sung at different times to the end of the scene. 2 Never broke vow, from whose eyes never Flew disdainful dart, Whose hard heart never Slew those rewarders? Thou art young and fair.] The measure of all, except the last line quoted above, only wants to be replaced; but that last is deficient in sense as well as measure. I suppose the word ill to have been the monosyllable lost, and rewarders to have been put for rewarded, and then it would run, Thus rewarders: This being too glaringly absurd might be thought to be amended by making it, Those rewarders. Seward. Thus ill rewarded? Thou art young and fair, Peter. Anthony, Art sure we are at home? Anth. Without all doubt, Peter. Peter. Then this must be the devil. 1 [Sing again. Good devil, sing again! Oh, dainty devil!— Peter, believe it, a most delicate devil! The sweetest devil Enter FREDERIC and DON JOHN. Fred. If you could leave peeping! Fred. Then come in softly; And, as you love your faith, presume no further Than you have promised. John. Basta! Fred. What make you up so early, sir? Peter. Oh,pray you, peace, sir. [Lute plays again. The above song is not in the first copy; however, it bears such strong internal marks of authenticity, that we cannot doubt its being genuine.-Ed. 1778. The song is probably original, but the editors have rejected many others, which occur first in the second folio, of far higher value. See for instance the Queen of Corinth.-It is necessary to adopt the greater part of Seward's variations; but in one instance the old text has been restored, as having the same meaning as the amendment. In the sixth line he reads unnecessarily, whose hard heart none e'er slew. Peter. Do you hear? John. "Tis your lute. Fred. Pray ye speak softly; She's playing on't. Anth. The house is haunted, sir, For this we have heard this half-year. Fred. Ye saw nothing? Anth. Not I. Peter. Nor I, sir. Fred. Get us our breakfast then; And make no words on't. We'll undertake this spirit, If it be one. Anth. This is no devil, Peter. Mum! there be bats abroad. [Exeunt PETER and ANTHONY. Fred. Stay; now she sings. John. An angel's voice, I'll swear! Either allay this heat; or, as I live, John. Pass! I warrant you. SCENE III. Another in the same. Enter CONSTANTIA. [Singing. [Exeunt. Con. To curse those stars that men say govern us, To rail at Fortune, fall out with my fate, And task the general world, will help me nothing: Are our own fates, our own stars all our fortunes, Which, as we sway 'em, so abuse or bless us. Enter FREDERIC, and DON JOHN peeping. Fred. Peace to your meditations! John. Pox upon ye, Stand out o' th' light! Con. I crave your mercy, sir; My mind, o'er-charged with care, made me unmannerly. Fred. Pray you set that mind at rest; all shall be perfect. John. I like the body rare; a handsome body, A wond'rous handsome body. 'Would she would turn! See, an that spiteful puppy be not got Fred. 'Tis done, As all that you command shall be: The gentleman Is safely off all danger. John. Oh, de Dios! Con. How shall I thank you, sir? how satisfy? Fred. Speak softly, gentle lady, all's rewarded.Now does he melt, like marmalade. John. Nay, 'tis certain, [Aside. Thou art the sweetest woman I e'er look'd on: I hope thou art not honest. Fred. None disturb'd you? Con. Not any, sir, nor any sound came near me; I thank your care. Fred. 'Tis well. John. I would fain pray now, But the devil, and that flesh there o' the world— What are we made to suffer! 3 3 But th' devil and that flesh there, o' the world, What are we made to suffer?] Seward has proposed two |