I have News to tell your Lordship, Signior Angelo (of the Locti Famely is banished.

As bells ring; some out, some in, all jangle, they say he Has dealt with the Genoway against the state: but whether with the men, or the women; tis to be stood upon.

No, but I had a stomack to one dish, and the not tasting it, makes me sick at heart.

I shall looke so old first, I shall be taken for thy gran­dame; come, come 'tis but a worme betweene the skinne And the flesh, and to be taken out with the point of a Waiting-womans needle, as well as a great Countesses.

Leave thee in sicknes? I had more need give thee a Caudle; and thrust thy adle-head into a night-Capp, for looke you brother—

Into a Tanerne, Drinke stiffe, sweare stiffe; have your musicke, and your brace, dance, and whiffe Tobacco,

And doe thus, but till the Moore cutts off her hornes; Laugh in the day, and sleepe in the night: and this wenching fier will be burnt out of you.

Slave? I know you for the Dukes sonne, but I know noc ause of quarrell, or this base reproach.

I'le point you to a doore where you may enter and fetch out a loath'd life.

I haue another case to handle: thou know'st the Donna Alphonsina, of the Neri Familie.

Give her this paper, and this; in the one she may know my minde, in the other, feele me: this a Letter, this a Iewell:

Thou hast beene my weavers shuttle to runne betwixt me and my stuffes of Procreandi causa.

'Tis halfe a curse to them, that build, and spare, and hoard up wealth, yet cannot name an heire.

As a Gentleman shoo'd have, I know all, but play on none: I am no Barber.

I see you are a dealer, give me thy hand, Ile entertaine thee howsoeuer, because in thee I keepe halfe a score Gentlemen; thy name.

So: me-thinkes a Lady had more need have a new paire of lips, then a new paire of gloves, for tho' they were both of one skinne, yet one would weare out sooner then the other; I thinke these Courtiers have al offices in the Spicerie, And taking my lips for sweet-meates, are as sawcie with 'em, as if they were Fees; I wonder Tibaldo thou can'st fit still, and not come in for a share; If old Vanni's wife had beene heere, all the parts about you had mov'd.

Thou think'st I lie in, heere's such a gossiping, as if 'twere a Child-bed Chamber.

So 'tis, for Ile sweare, all this stirre is about having a wo­man brought to bed; marry I doubt it must be a mans lying in.

Then prethee take this Phisick; be not the sea, to drinke strange Rivers up, yet still be drie; Be like a noble streame, co­vet to runne betwixt faire bankes, which thou may'st call thine owne, and let those bankes be some faire Ladies armes, fit for thy youth, and birth.

Are all my warme cawdles come to this? now I see th'art too farre gone, this Lady hath overspent thee therefore settle thine estate, plucke up a good heart, and Ile pen thy will.

Bequeath thy kisses to some Taylor, that hunts out wed­dings every sunday; Item, Thy sighes to a noyse of fidlers ill paid, thy palenesse to a Fencer fighting at sharpe, thy want of stomack to one of the Dukes guard.

I begge it at thy hands, that being a woman, thou'It make a wonder.

My Lord hath sent you a Iewell, lock't up in this paper, and the moisture of a goose quill, that's to say, words in that—

Oh sir, I thanke your Lord, and this your paines; have him into the Buttery—let me see, Lady, that I love you, I dare sweare like a Lord (I shall have oathes enough then) I send you all that is mine, in hope all shall bee mine that is yours, for it stands to reason, that mine being yours, yours should bee mine, and yours being mine, mine should be yours. Love me, or I die, If I die, you kill me, If you kill me, I will say nothing, but take the blow patiently. I hold my life this Lord has bin bastinado'd, out upon him rammish foxe, he stinks hither; Prethee good Bro­ther reade.

Is't Gander moneth with him? How the devill is my may­denhead blasted? that among such shoales of Gallants, that swim up and downe the Court, no fish bites at the baite of my poore beautie, but this tough Cods-head?

Sr, I have you. And I goeing vpon so weightie a busi­nesse, as getting of children, you would ha' me pin you to my sleeve.

Nothing I see is so like an old-man, as a young­man drunke.

[Page] To make'em thus dance Antickes; I shall never play the dissembler.

More helpe! alas there's my Lady Vanni with her, and Ladies upon Ladies, and Doctours upon Doctours, but all can­not doe.

Oh sweete Princesse, it takes her all over with a prick­ing; first about her stomack, and then she heaves and heaves, that no one man with all his weight, can keepe her downe.

At this I wonder, that her sicknesse makes her Doctours fooles.

Well, well, If death do take her, he shall have the sweet­est bed-fellow that ever lay by leane mans-side.

Tender quoth a? I'me sure my heeles are growne as hard as hoofes, with trotting for her, I'le put you in one comfort.

In her greatest conflict sh'as had a worthy feeling of her selfe.

'Tis but her way-ward sicknes casts this eye of slightnes on you.

A my trat 'tis verament, she longa to do some ting in Love uponle gentle home.

Hipocratus, Avicen, but no point can peeke out le remedie for de Madam in de bryars of love.

Ayme, trat not worth a lowse, onely in my perigrination about le grand gloabe of de world, me find out a fine trick for make a de man, and Voman doe, dat is tickla in love.

Me have had under my fingera, many brave vench, and most Noble gentle Dames, dat have bee much troubla, upon de wilde vorme in de taile for de man.

And bee my tra my Lord, by experement me finde dat de heart of de man; you understanda me.

And rub upon de ting (vat you call it) fall make it moulder all to crumble and dust.

Ee by my tra you say vell, rub a de mans dry Art upon de Grater, and drinke de powder in de pot le Vine, by de Gen­tle-voman, and by gars-blor, she present amently kick up de heele at de man she lova.

No point more remembra, but cry out le French poo up­on le varlet.

Be-gar, as my selfe hate le puz-cat, cry mew at my shin; and vill have de rombling a de gut, for de other gentle home.

Be-gar me hope so, and derfore my Lord apply le despe­rate [Page] Medicine, to le perilous maladie, and have dis Angelo be cut in de troate, and be man-slaughtered.

Then 'tis your breeches; stand off—and shines there (say you) a Sun in our horizon full as glorious, as we our selfe?

I pray you hush all, a little hush, le faire Lady by hee owne vo unter disposition, has take a ting dat is of such a grand operation, it shall make a de stone for slepe.

Tis not your fcurvie English Poppy, nor Mandragon, nor a ting so danger as Oppium, but tis de brave ting a de vorld, for knock a de braine asleepe.

Peace, be gor it is snore and snore, two mile long; now if your grace vill please for procure Musick, be restore as brave as de fish.

Oh out upon this Doctor; hang him, does he thinke to cure dejected Ladies with Fidlers—

De grand French poo stopa de troate, pray void le Shambera.

I, I, go out of her prospect, for shee's not to bee cur'd with a song.

For one friend to keepe doore for another, is the office now amongst gallants, common as the Law; Ile bee your por­ter Sir.

Mee Lor, be all mad, le braine crowe, and run whirabout like de windmill saile, pardon a moy, por quoy my sweete Ma­dam, pardon your povera Doctor.

Begar her imaginashon be out a de vitts, and so dazell de two nyes, and come downe so into de bellie, and possibla for make her tinke mee or you to be le shentle-man shee lovea, and so shee takea my man for a Iack-a-nape, mee know not who.

Dar be too much devill in de body all ready be my trat my Lor, mee no stay heere for ten hundred hundred Coronaes, she cry upon mee 'tis Master Angelo, you tink so not one and two time, but a tyrd time, you smell a me out; And so cutta my troate; adue my Lor.

Is't come to this, have the walls of the Castle beene besie­ged [Page] thus long, lien open for a breach; and dare you not

Why I would ha'you (tho'you be in womans apparrell) to be your selfe a man, and do what you come for.

Must thou needs at thy first encounter tell her thou art a man, why when you walke together, cannot you begin a tale to her, with once upon a time there was a loving couple that ha­ving tyred themselves with walking, sat downe upon a banck, and kist, and embraced, and plaid, and so by degrees bring the tale about to your owne purpose. Can you not? fie, you are the worst at these things Sir.

And the more foole you indeed: you see how the old stinking fox her husband is stil rubbing me as if I had the palsy, Ile not have his wither'd hands (which are as moist as the side of stock-fish) lye pidling in my bosome, therefore determine some thing, or farewell.

The clocke for your businesse thus far goes true, but now for me, what shall I do with the old cock in my Roost?

No not I beleeve me, I know not what to doe with him, [Page] unlesse I should give him a little Nux vomica, to make him sleep away the night, but brother, to pleasure you, Ile venter a joynte, and yet it troubles me too, that I should prove a Traytor to my sex, I doe betray an Innocent Lady, to what ill I know not.

All I had is burnt, and that which touches me to the quick, a boxe of my sweete evidence my Lord.

Ever sound my Lord? if all our gallants sho'd bee so, Do­ctors, Pothecaries, and Barber-surgeons, might feed upon Ony­ons and Butter-milke; ever sound! a brave world then.

If your Lordship will not allow me minister to your selfe, pray let me give your man a purgation.

I would have lien with you, wo'd it were as lawfull to fellow nights with him.

O ye heavens! how strangely one houre works upon an other. It was but now heart-sick, and long'd for meat,

In this chamber she lies, and that's her window wo'd I were in: the aire bites, but the bit that I shall bite anon sharpens. my stomack, the watch-word is a cornet, (Cornet within) it speakes, she bids me come without a lighr, and reason snes light enough herselfe; wincke thou one-eyed baud, be thou an em­bleme of thy Mr. and burne in secret.

Ther's nothing stirring, the very mice are a sleeepe, as I am noble, Ile deale with thee like a gentleman.

Ile doe that then, which some Citizens will not doe, to some Lord.

My most lov'd Lord, step you aside, I would not have you seene for the saving of my right hand, preserve mine honour, as I preserve your love.

Oh my Lord, I have stood Centinell as you bad me, but I am frighted.

Have you no bird to flie at, but what sits on your owne sonnes fiste?

Yes my Lord, and bull'd too, yonders Tibaldo Neri come this morning.

Not that I saw, but I saw him kisse my yong Mistris, three or foure times, I thinke 'twere good to aske the banes of Matri­mony.

Wo't twere no worse, let's in, and give 'em the mornings Salutation.