in any case; for 'tis tavern-like: but lay them one upon another, in some out-room or corner of the dining-chamber. Chloe. Go, go; meddle with your bed-chamber only; or rather with your bed in your chamber only; or rather with your wife in your bed only; or on my faith I'll not be pleased with you only. Alb. Look here, my dear wife, entertain that gentleman kindly, I prithee -mum. [Exit. Chloe. Go, I need your instructions indeed! anger me no more, I advise you. Citi-sin, quoth'a!' she's a wise gentlewoman, i'faith, will marry herself to the sin of the city. Alb. [re-entering.] But this time, and no more, by heav'n, wife: hang no pictures in the hall, nor in the dining-chamber, in any case, but in the gallery only; for 'tis not courtly else, o' my word, wife. Chloe. 'Sprecious, never have done! Alb. Wife [Exit. Chloe. Do I not bear a reasonable corrigible hand over him, Crispinus? Cris. By this hand, lady, you hold a most sweet hand over him. Alb. [re-entering.] And then, for the great gilt andirons Chloe. Again! Would the andirons were in your great guts for me! Alb. I do vanish, wife. [Exit. Chloe. How shall I do, master Crispinus? here will be all the bravest ladies in court presently to see your cousin Cytheris: O the gods! how might I behave myself now, as to entertain them most courtly? Cris. Marry, lady, if you will entertain them most 7 Citi-sin, quoth'a! &c.] This exquisite pun on citizen serves very well to keep Cri-spinas in countenance. A little false spelling, I presume, (for I am no great adept in these matters,) is allowable where the effect produced by it is so very striking. courtly, you must do thus: as soon as ever your maid or your man brings you word they are come, you must say, A pox on'em! what do they here? And yet, when they come, speak them as fair, and give them the kindest welcome in words that can be. Chloe. Is that the fashion of courtiers, Crispinus? Cris. I assure you it is, lady; I have observed it. Chloe. For your pox, sir, it is easily hit on; but it is not so easy to speak fair after, methinks. Alb. [re-entering.] O, wife, the coaches are come, on my word; a number of coaches and courtiers. Chloe. A pox on them! what do they here? Alb. How now, wife! would'st thou not have them come? Chloe. Come! come, you are a fool, you.-He knows not the trick on't. Call Cytheris, I pray you : and, good master Crispinus, you can observe, you say; let me entreat you for all the ladies' behaviours, jewels, jests, and attires, that you marking, as well as I, we may put both our marks together, when they are gone, and confer of them. Cris. I warrant you, sweet lady; let me alone to observe till I turn myself to nothing but observation. Enter CYTHERIS. Good morrow, cousin Cytheris. Cyth. Welcome, kind cousin. What! are they come? Alb. Ay, your friend Cornelius Gallus, Ovid, Tibullus, Propertius, with Julia, the emperor's daughter, and the lady Plautia, are 'lighted at the door; and with them Hermogenes Tigellius, the excellent mu sician. Cyth. Come, let us go meet them, Chloe. : 8 A pox on them! what do they here?] Chloe is an apt scholar :but who would think the lesson of so old a date! It seems as if it were delivered but yesterday. Chloe. Observe, Crispinus. Crisp. At a hair's breadth, lady, I warrant you. As they are going out, enter CORNELIUS GALLUS, OVID, TIBULLUS, PROPERTIUS, HERMOGENES, JULIA, and PLAUTIA. Gal. Health to the lovely Chloe! you must pardon me, mistress, that I prefer this fair gentlewoman. Cyth. I pardon, and praise you for it, sir; and I beseech your excellence, receive her beauties into your knowledge and favour. Jul. Cytheris, she hath favour and behaviour, that commands as much of me: and, sweet Chloe, know I do exceedingly love you, and that I will approve in any grace my father the emperor may shew you. Is this your husband? Alb. For fault of a better, if it please your high ness. Chloe. Gods my life, how he shames me! Cyth. Not a whit, Chloe, they all think you politic, and witty; wise women choose not husbands for the eye, merit, or birth, but wealth and sovereignty. Ovid. Sir, we all come to gratulate, for the good report of you. Tib. And would be glad to deserve your love, sir. Alb. My wife will answer you all, gentlemen; I'll come to you again presently. [Exit. Plau. You have chosen you a most fair companion here, Cytheris, and a very fair house. Cyth. To both which, you and all my friends are very welcome, Plautia. Chloe. With all my heart, I assure your ladyship. Plau. Thanks, sweet mistress Chloe. Jul. You must needs come to court, lady, i'faith, and there be sure your welcome shall be as great to us. Ovid. She will deserve it, madam; I see, even in her looks, gentry, and general worthiness. Tib. I have not seen a more certain character of an excellent disposition. Alb. [re-entering.] Wife! Chloe. O, they do so commend me here, the courtiers! what's the matter now? Alb. For the banquet, sweet wife. Chloe. Yes; and I must needs come to court, and be welcome, the princess says. [Exit with ALbius. Gal. Ovid and Tibullus, you may be bold to welcome your mistress here. Ovid. We find it so, sir. Tib. And thank Cornelius Gallus. Ovid. Nay, my sweet Sextus, in faith thou art not sociable. Prop. In faith I am not, Publius; nor I cannot. Sick minds are like sick men that burn with fevers, Who when they drink, please but a present taste, And after bear a more impatient fit. Pray let me leave you; I offend you all, And myself most. Gal. Stay, sweet Propertius. Tib. You yield too much unto your griefs, and fate, Which never hurts, but when we say it hurts us. Prop. O peace, Tibullus; your philosophy Lends you too rough a hand to search my wounds. Speak they of griefs, that know to sigh and grieve: The free and unconstrained spirit feels No weight of my oppression. Ovid. Worthy Roman!9 [Exit. 9 Worthy Roman, &c.] Ovid and his friends seem to have taken Propertius at his word, and given him credit for more affliction than he really suffered. Cynthia's own opinion of the matter is not quite so favourable to the feelings of her quondam lover. Her "grimly ghost" comes, like Margaret's, to his bedside, and exhibits a fearful scroll of complaints against him: "Denique quis nostro curvum te funere vidit, Atram quis lachrymis incaluisse togam ? Methinks I taste his misery, and could Sit down, and chide at his malignant stars. Jul. Methinks I love him, that he loves so truly. Cyth. This is the perfect'st love, lives after death. Gal. Such is the constant ground of virtue still. Plau. It puts on an inseparable face. Re-enter CHLOE. Chloe. Have you mark'd every thing, Crispinus? Cris. Every thing, I warrant you. Chloe. What gentlemen are these? do you know them? Cris. Ay, they are poets, lady. Chloe. Poets! they did not talk of me since I went, did they? Cris. O yes, and extolled your perfections to the heavens. Chloe. Now in sincerity they be the finest kind of men that ever I knew: Poets! Could not one get the emperor to make my husband a poet, think you? Cris. No, lady, 'tis love and beauty make poets: and since you like poets so well, your love and beauties shall make me a poet. Chloe. What! shall they? and such a one as these? Cris. Ay, and a better than these: I would be sorry else. Chloe. And shall your looks change, and your hair change, and all, like these? 1 1 Si piguit portas ultra procedere, at illud But this is nothing to what follows. Briefly, if half of what she says be true, her ghost is fully justified in walking. 1 And shall your hair change, like these?] This is personal. It appears that Rufus Laberius Crispinus had red hair, which was not to Chloe's taste: Decker adverts to the bringing of a red beard on the stage, in the Guls Hornbook. See p. 419. Cunning, which |