your discourse with them, persuade your soul, it would most judiciously commend you. Come, this was a well-discharged and auspicious bout. Prove the second.

Aso. Lady, I cannot ruffle it in red and yellow. Amo. Why, if you can recel it in white, sir, 'tis sufficient.

Aso. Say you so, sweet lady! Lan, tede, de, de, de, dant, dant, dant, dante. [Sings and dances.] No, in good faith, madam, whosoever told your ladyship so, abused you; but I would be glad to meet your ladyship in a measure."

Amo. Me, sir! Belike you measure me by yourself, then?

Aso. Would I might, fair feature.

Amo. And what were you the better, if you might? Aso. The better it please you to ask, fair lady.

Amo. Why, this was ravishing, and most acutely continued. Well, spend not your humour too much, you have now competently exercised your conceit: this, once or twice a day, will render you an accomplish'd, elaborate, and well-levell'd gallant. Convey in your courting-stock, we will in the heat of this go visit the nymphs' chamber. [Exeunt.

• I cannot ruffle it,] i. e. flaunt it, swagger, or act the part of a ruffler. A cheating bully is called a ruffler in several acts of parliament in the reign of Hen. VIII. See Old Plays, Vol. I. p. 259. So in The Roaring Girl, 1611; "A ruffler is my stile, my title, my profession." A ruffler is described in Decker's Pelman of London, 1616, Sign. D. WHAL.

7 I would be glad to meet your ladyship in a measure.] Measures (when spoken of technically) were dances of a grave and dignified kind, performed at court and at public entertainments at the Temple, Inns of Court, &c. They were not to the taste of Sir Toby, if we may trust Shakspeare; and that the knight was not singular in his dislike appears from Shirley's Bird in a Cage: "No, none of your dull measures! There's no sport but in your country figaries."

ACT IV. SCENE I.

An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter PHANTASTE, PHILAUTIA, ARGURION, MORIA, and CUPID.

Pha. I would this water would arrive once, our travelling friend so commended to us.

Arg. So would I, for he has left all us in travail with expectation of it.

Pha. Pray Jove, I never rise from this couch, if ever I thirsted more for a thing in my whole time of being a courtier.

Phi. Nor I, I'll be sworn: the very mention of it sets my lips in a worse heat, than if he had sprinkled them with mercury. Reach me the glass, sirrah.

Cup. Here, lady.

Mor. They do not peel, sweet charge, do they? Phi. Yes, a little, guardian.

Mor. O, 'tis an eminent good sign. Ever when my lips do so, I am sure to have some delicious good drink or other approaching.

Arg. Marry, and this may be good for us ladies;" for it seems 'tis far fet by their stay.

Mor. My palate for yours, dear Honour, it shall prove most elegant, I warrant you. O, I do fancy this gear that's long a coming, with an unmeasurable strain.

Pha. Pray thee sit down, Philautia; that rebatu becomes thee singularly.'

This may be good for us ladies, &c.] Argurion alludes to the · old proverb; “Far fet (fetched) is good for ladies."

• That rebatu becomes thee singularly.] This was a kind of ruff

Phi. Is it not quaint?

Pha. Yes, faith. Methinks, thy servant Hedon is nothing so obsequious to thee, as he was wont to be: I know not how, he is grown out of his garb a-late, he's warp'd.

Mor. In trueness, and so methinks too; he is much converted.

Phi. Tut, let him be what he will, 'tis an animal I dream not of. This tire, methinks, makes me look very ingeniously, quick, and spirited; I should be some Laura, or some Delia, methinks.

Mor. As I am wise, fair Honours, that title she gave him, to be her Ambition, spoil'd him: before, he was the most propitious and observant young novice

Pha. No, no, you are the whole heaven awry, guardian; 'tis the swaggering coach-horse Anaides draws with him there,' has been the diverter of him.

Phi. For Cupid's sake speak no more of him; would I might never dare to look in a mirror again, if I respect ever a marmoset of 'em all, otherwise than I would a feather, or my shuttlecock, to make sport with now and then.

Pha. Come, sit down; troth, an you be good beauties, let's run over them all now: Which is

or collar-band, which turned back, and lay in plaits, on the shoulders. It is frequently mentioned by our old poets, as a fashionable part of the dress both of ladies and gentlemen.

I

'Tis the swaggering coach-horse Anaides draws with him] This contemptuous term for a companion or close associate is very common. Thus, in Mons. D'Olive, " Welcome, little wit; my page Pacque here makes choice of you to be his fellow coach-horse."

Again,

"He'll be an excellent coach-horse for any captain." Green's Tu Quoque. you and your coach,

And Shakspeare: "Three reprieves for fellow Nym." Merry Wives of Windsor.

WHAL.

the properest man amongst them? I say, the traveller, Amorphus.

Phi. O, fie on him, he looks like a Venetian trumpeter in the battle of Lepanto,2 in the gallery yonder; and speaks to the tune of a country lady, that comes ever in the rearward or train of a fashion.

Mor. I should have judgment in a feature, sweet beauties.

Pha. A body would think so, at these years. Mor. And I prefer another now, far before him, a million at least.

Pha. Who might that be, guardian?

Mor. Marry, fair charge, Anaides.

Pha. Anaides! you talk'd of a tune, Philautia; there's one speaks in a key, like the opening of some justice's gate, or a postboy's horn, as if his voice fear'd an arrest for some ill words it should give, and were loth to come forth.

Phi. Ay, and he has a very imperfect face. Pha. Like a sea-monster, that were to ravish Andromeda from the rock.

Phi. His hands too great too, by at least a straw's breadth.

Pha. Nay, he has a worse fault than that too. Phi. A long heel?

Pha. That were a fault in a lady, rather than him no, they say he puts off the calves of his legs, with his stockings, every night.

Phi. Out upon him! Turn to another of the

2 He looks like a Venetian trumpeter in the battle of Lepanto.] Alluding to the famous sea-fight between the Turks and Christians in the year 1571, in which the Turks were defeated with great loss. WHAL.

And to little purpose, Whalley might have added. The 4to. reads Dutch trumpeter, which was well corrected in the folio.

pictures, for love's sake. What says Argurion? Whom does she commend afore the rest?

Cup. I hope I have instructed her sufficiently for an answer.

[Aside. Mor. Troth, I made the motion to her ladyship for one to-day, i'the presence, but it appear'd she was otherways furnished before: she would none. Pha. Who was that, Argurion?

Mor. Marry, the poor plain gentleman in the black there.

Pha. Who, Crites?

Arg. Ay, ay, he: a fellow that nobody so much as look'd upon, or regarded; and she would have had me done him particular grace.

Pha. That was a true trick of yourself, Moria, to persuade Argurion to affect the scholar.

Arg. Tut, but she shall be no chooser for me. In good faith, I like the citizen's son there, Asotus; methinks none of them all come near him. Pha. Not Hedon?

Arg. Hedon! In troth, no. Hedon's a pretty slight courtier, and he wears his clothes well, and sometimes in fashion; marry, his face is but indifferent, and he has no such excellent body. No, the other is a most delicate youth; a sweet face, a straight body, a well-proportion'd leg and foot, a white hand, a tender voice.

Phi. How now, Argurion!

Pha. O, you should have let her alone, she was bestowing a copy of him upon us. Such a nose were enough to make me love a man, now.

Phi. And then his several colours, he wears; wherein he flourisheth changeably, every day. Pha. O, but his short hair, and his narrow eyes! Phi. Why she doats more palpably upon him than ever his father did upon her.

Pha. Believe me, the young gentleman deserves