Yet this would be a key to lead you to
A prize of that importance-
Nev. Worthy friend,

I leave you not in anger,—what d'ye mean?—
Nor am I of that inquisitive nature framed,
To thirst to know your private businesses.
Why, they concern not me: if they be ill,

And dangerous, 'twould grieve me much to know them;
If good, be they so; though I know them not:
Nor would I do your love so gross a wrong,
To covet to participate affairs

Of that near touch, which your assured love

Doth not think fit, or dares not trust me with.

Scud. How sweetly doth your friendship play with mine,

And with a simple subtlety steals my heart

Out of my bosom! by the holiest love

That ever made a story, you are a man

With all good so replete, that I durst trust you

E'en with this secret, were it singly mine.

Nev. I do believe you.

Farewell, worthy friend.

Scud. Nay, look you, this same fashion does not please me.

You were not wont to make your visitation

So short and careless.

Nev. 'Tis your jealousy,

That makes you think it so; for, by my soul,
You've given me no distaste in keeping from me

All things that might be burdensome, and oppress me.—
In truth, I am invited to a Wedding;

And the morn faster goes away from me,

Than I toward it: and so good morrow

Scud. Good morrow, Sir. Think I durst show it

you

Nev. Now, by my life, I not desire it, Sir,

Nor ever lov'd these prying list'ning men,
That ask of others 'states and passages :
Not one among a hundred but proves false,
Envious and sland'rous, and will cut that throat
He twines his arms about. I love that Poet,
That gave us reading "Not to seek ourselves
Beyond ourselves." Farewell.

Scud. You shall not go.

I cannot now redeem the fault I have made
To such a friend, but in disclosing all.

Nev. Now, if you love me, do not wrong me so;
labour with some serious thing,

I see you

And think, like fairies' treasure, to reveal it

Will burst your breast,-'tis so delicious,

And so much greater than the continent.

Scud. O you have pierced my entrails with your

words,

And I must now explain all to your eyes.

(Gives him the Letter.)

Read and be happy in my happiness.

:

Nev. Yet think on't; keep thy secret and thy friend Sure and entire. O give not me the means To become false hereafter; or thyself

A probable reason to distrust thy friend,

Though he be ne'er so near. I will not see it.
Scud. I die, by heav'n, if you deny again.

I starve for counsel; take it, look

If you do not, it is an equal plague

upon

As if it had been known and published.

it.

For God's sake, read; but with this caution,-
By this right hand, by this yet unstain'd sword,
Were you my father flowing in these waves,
Or a dear son exhausted out of them,
Should you betray the soul of all my hopes,

Like the two Brethren (though love made them Stars)

We must be never more both seen again.

(reads.)

Nev. I read it, fearless of the forfeiture :Yet warn you, be as cautelous not to wound My integrity with doubt, on likelihoods From misreport, but first exquire the truth. Scud. She is the food, the sleep, the air I live byNev. (having read the Letter.) O heav'n, we speak like Gods, and do like Dogs!—

Scud. What means my—

Nev. This day this Bellafront, this rich heir

Is married unto Count Frederick;

And that's the Wedding I was going to.

Scud. I prithee do not mock me ;-married !—

Nev. It is no matter to be plaid withal!

But yet as true, as women all are false.

Scud. O that this stroke were thunder to my breast, For, Nevill, thou hast spoke my heart in twain;

And with the sudden whirlwind of thy breath
Hast ravish'd me out of a temperate soil,

And set me under the red burning zone.

Nev. For shame, return thy blood into thy face. Know'st not how slight a thing a Woman is ? Scud. Yes; and how serious too.

Scudmore, afterwards, forsaken.

Scud. Oh God!

What an eternal joy my heart has felt,
Sitting at one of these same idle plays,
When I have seen a Maid's Inconstancy
Presented to the life: how glad my eyes
Have stole about me, fearing lest my looks
Should tell the company contented there,
I had a Mistress free of all such thoughts.

He replies to his friend, who adjures him to live.
Scud. The sun is stale to me; to morrow morn,

As this, 'twill rise, I see no difference;

The night doth visit me but in one robe;

She brings as many thoughts, as she wears stars
When she is pleasant, but no rest at all:

For what new strange thing should I covet life then :
Is she not false whom only I thought true?
Shall Time (to show his strength) make Scudmore live,
Till (perish the vicious thought) I love not thee;
Or thou, dear friend, remove thy heart from me!—

THE TRIUMPHANT WIDOW: A COMEDY. BY THE DUKE OF NEWCASTLE, 1677.

Humours of a Thief going to Execution.

Officers. Room for the prisoner there, room for the prisoner.

Footpad. Make room there; 'tis a strange thing a man cannot go to be hanged without crowding for it. 1st Fellow. Pray, Sir, were not you a kin to one Hinde?*

Footpad. No; I had run faster away then.

2nd Fellow. Pray, prisoner, before your death clear your conscience, and tell me truly, &c.

(All ask him questions about robberies.) Margery. I am sure you had my Lady's gilt caudle

cup.

Footpad. Yes, and would have kept it; but she has it again, has she not?

James And the plate out of my buttery

A noted highwayman in those days.

Footpad. Well, and had she not it again? what a plague would you have? you examine me, as if yea would hang me, after I am hanged. Pray, officers, rid me of these impertinent people, and let me die in quiet. 1st Woman. O lord! how angry he is! that shews be is a right reprobate, I warrant you.

Footpad. I believe, if all of you were to be hanged. which I hope may be in good time, you would not be very merry.

2nd Woman. Lord, what a down look he has !

1st Woman. Aye, and what a cloud in his forehead, goody Twattle, mark that

2nd Woman. Aye, and such frowning wrinkles, I warrant you, not so much as a smile from him.

Footpad. Smile, quoth she! Tho' tis sport for you. 'tis none for me, I assure you.

1st Woman. Aye, but 'tis so long before you are hanged.

Footpad. I wish it longer, good woman.

1st Fellow. Prithee, Mr. Thief, let this be a warning to you for ever doing the like again.

Footpad. I promise you it shall.

2nd Woman. That's well: thank you with all my heart, la that was spoken like a precious godly man

now.

1st Woman. By my truly, methinks now he is a very proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day.

Footpad. Aye, so are all that are hanged; the gallows adds a great deal of grace to one's person.

2nd Woman. I vow he is a lovely man; 'tis pity he should be taken away, as they say, in the flower of his age.

1st Officer. Come, dispatch, dispatch; what a plague shall we stay all day, and neglect our business, to hang one thief?