( 29 )
Bayes. His friends! Ay, Sir, his intimate acquaintance; or else, indeed, I grant it could not be.
Smi. Yes, faith, so it might be very easily.
Bayes. Nay, if I do not make all things easie, I gad, I'l give you leave to hang me. Now you would think that he is going out of Town; but you shall see how prettily I have contriv'd to stop him presently.
Smi. By my troth, Sir, you have so amaz'd me, I know not what to think.
Enter Parthenope.
Vols. Bless me! how frail are all my best resolves!
How, in a moment, is my purpose chang'd!
Too soon I thought my self secure from Love.
Fair Madam, give me leave to ask her name
Who does so gently rob me of my fame?
For I should meet the Army out of Town,
And, if I fail, must hazard my renown.
Par. My Mother, Sir, sells Ale by the Town-walls,
And me her dear Parthenope she calls.
Vols. Can vulgar Vestments high-born beauty shrowd?
Thou bring'st the Morning pictur'd in a Cloud.
Bayes. The Morning pictur'd in a Cloud! A, Gadsookers, what a conceipt is there!
Par. Give you good Ev'n, Sir. [Exit.
Vols. O inauspicious Stars! that I was born
To sudden love, and to more sudden scorn!
Ama. Cloris. How! Prince Volscius in love? Ha, ha, ha. [Exeunt laughing.
Smi. Sure, Mr. Bayes, we have lost some jest here, that they laugh at so.
Bayes. Why did you not observe? He first resolves to go out of Town, and then, as he is pulling on his Boots, falls in love. Ha, ha, ha.
Smi. O, I did not observe: that, indeed, is a very good jest.
Bayes. Here, now, you shall see a combat betwixt Love and Honour. And ancient Author has made a whole Play on't;but
