SCENE I.—THE COURT.

ENTER CUPID AND MERCURY, DISGUISED AS PAGES.

CUP. Why, this was most unexpectedly followed, my divine delicate
Mercury, by the beard of Jove, thou art a precious deity.

MER. Nay, Cupid, leave to speak improperly; since we are turn'd
cracks, let's study to be like cracks; practise their language, and
behaviours, and not with a dead imitation: Act freely, carelessly,
and capriciously, as if our veins ran with quicksilver, and not
utter a phrase, but what shall come forth steep'd in the very brine
of conceit, and sparkle like salt in fire.

CUP. That's not every one's happiness, Hermes: Though you can
presume upon the easiness and dexterity of your wit, you shall give
me leave to be a little jealous of mine; and not desperately to
hazard it after your capering humour.

MER. Nay, then, Cupid, I think we must have you hood-wink'd again;
for you are grown too provident since your eyes were at liberty.

CUP. Not so, Mercury, I am still blind Cupid to thee.

MER. And what to the lady nymph you serve?

CUP. Troth, page, boy, and sirrah: these are all my titles.

MER. Then thou hast not altered thy name with thy disguise?

CUP. O, no, that had been supererogation; you shall never hear
your courtier call but by one of these three.

MER. Faith, then both our fortunes are the same.

CUP. Why, what parcel of man hast thou lighted on for a master?

MER. Such a one as, before I begin to decipher him, I dare not
affirm to be any thing less than a courtier. So much he is during
this open time of revels, and would be longer, but that his means
are to leave him shortly after. His name is Hedon, a gallant
wholly consecrated to his pleasures.

CUP. Hedon! he uses much to my lady's chamber, I think.

MER. How is she call'd, and then I can shew thee?

CUP. Madame Philautia.

MER. O ay, he affects her very particularly indeed. These are his
graces. He doth (besides me) keep a barber and a monkey; he has a
rich wrought waistcoat to entertain his visitants in, with a cap
almost suitable. His curtains and bedding are thought to be his
own; his bathing-tub is not suspected. He loves to have a fencer,
a pedant, and a musician seen in his lodging a-mornings.

CUP. And not a poet?

MER. Fie no: himself is a rhymer, and that's thought better than
a poet. He is not lightly within to his mercer, no, though he come
when he takes physic, which is commonly after his play. He beats a
tailor very well, but a stocking-seller admirably: and so
consequently any one he owes money to, that dares not resist him.
He never makes general invitement, but against the publishing of a
new suit; marry, then you shall have more drawn to his lodging,
than come to the launching of some three ships; especially if he be
furnish'd with supplies for the retiring of his old wardrobe from
pawn: if not, he does hire a stock of apparel, and some forty or
fifty pound in gold, for that forenoon to shew. He is thought a
very necessary perfume for the presence, and for that only cause
welcome thither: six milliners' shops afford you not the like
scent. He courts ladies with how many great horse he hath rid that
morning, or how oft he hath done the whole, or half the pommado in a
seven-night before: and sometime ventures so far upon the virtue of
his pomander, that he dares tell 'em, how many shirts he has sweat
at tennis that week; but wisely conceals so many dozen of balls he
is on the score. Here he comes, that is all this.

ENTER HEDON, ANAIDES, AND GELAIA.

HED. Boy!

MER. Sir.

HED. Are any of the ladies in the presence?

MER. None yet, sir.

HED. Give me some gold,—more.

ANA. Is that thy boy, Hedon?

HED. Ay, what think'st thou of him?

ANA. I'd geld him; I warrant he has the philosopher's stone.

HED. Well said, my good melancholy devil: sirrah, I have devised
one or two of the prettiest oaths, this morning in my bed, as ever
thou heard'st, to protest withal in the presence.

ANA. Prithee, let's hear them.

HED. Soft, thou'lt use them afore me.

ANA. No, d—mn me then—I have more oaths than I know how to
utter, by this air.

HED. Faith, one is, "By the tip of your ear, sweet lady." Is it
not pretty, and genteel?

ANA. Yes, for the person 'tis applied to, a lady. It should be
light, and—

HED. Nay, the other is better, exceeds it much: the invention is
farther fet too. "By the white valley that lies between the alpine
hills of your bosom, I protest.—"

ANA. Well, you travell'd for that, Hedon.

MER. Ay, in a map, where his eyes were but blind guides to his
understanding, it seems.

HED. And then I have a salutation will nick all, by this caper:
hay!

ANA. How is that?

HED. You know I call madam Philautia, my Honour; and she calls me
her Ambition. Now, when I meet her in the presence anon, I will
come to her, and say, "Sweet Honour, I have hitherto contented my
sense with the lilies of your hand; but now I will taste the roses
of your lip"; and, withal, kiss her: to which she cannot but
blushing answer, "Nay now you are too ambitious." And then do I
reply: "I cannot be too Ambitious of Honour, sweet lady." Will't
not be good? ha? ha?

ANA. O, assure your soul.

HED. By heaven, I think 'twill be excellent: and a very politic
achievement of a kiss.

ANA. I have thought upon one for Moria of a sudden too, if it take.

HED. What is't, my dear Invention?

ANA. Marry, I will come to her, (and she always wears a muff, if
you be remembered,) and I will tell her, "Madam your whole self
cannot but be perfectly wise; for your hands have wit enough to
keep themselves warm."

HED. Now, before Jove, admirable! [GELAIA LAUGHS.] Look, thy page
takes it too. By Phoebus, my sweet facetious rascal, I could eat
water-gruel with thee a month for this jest, my dear rogue.

ANA. O, Hercules 'tis your only dish; above all your potatoes or
oyster-pies in the world.

HED. I have ruminated upon a most rare wish too, and the prophecy
to it; but I'll have some friend to be the prophet; as thus: I do
wish myself one of my mistress's cioppini. Another demands, Why
would he be one of his mistress's cioppini? a third answers,
Because he would make her higher: a fourth shall say, That will
make her proud: and a fifth shall conclude, Then do I prophesy
pride will have a fall;—and he shall give it her.

ANA. I will be your prophet. Gods so, it will be most exquisite;
thou art a fine inventious rogue, sirrah.

HED. Nay, and I have posies for rings, too, and riddles, that they
dream not of.

ANA. Tut, they'll do that, when they come to sleep on them, time
enough: But were thy devices never in the presence yet, Hedon?

HED. O, no, I disdain that.

ANA. 'Twere good we went afore then, and brought them acquainted
with the room where they shall act, lest the strangeness of it put
them out of countenance, when they should come forth.

[EXEUNT HEDON AND ANAIDES.]

CUP. Is that a courtier, too.

MER. Troth, no; he has two essential parts of the courtier, pride
and ignorance; marry, the rest come somewhat after the ordinary
gallant. 'Tis Impudence itself, Anaides; one that speaks all that
comes in his cheeks, and will blush no more than a sackbut. He
lightly occupies the jester's room at the table, and keeps
laughter, Gelaia, a wench in page's attire, following him in place
of a squire, whom he now and then tickles with some strange
ridiculous stuff, utter'd as his land came to him, by chance. He
will censure or discourse of any thing, but as absurdly as you
would wish. His fashion is not to take knowledge of him that is
beneath him in clothes. He never drinks below the salt. He does
naturally admire his wit that wears gold lace, or tissue: stabs
any man that speaks more contemptibly of the scholar than he. He
is a great proficient in all the illiberal sciences, as cheating,
drinking, swaggering, whoring, and such like: never kneels but to
pledge healths, nor prays but for a pipe of pudding-tobacco. He
will blaspheme in his shirt. The oaths which he vomits at one
supper would maintain a town o