SIR WALTER. I should have ta'en you else for other two, Well, my good cause, and my good conscience, boy, I came to seek in the forest. Shall be for sons to me, if John prove false. Of a noble death is not an every-day fortune: Who are they? SIR WALTER. MARGARET. A gallant brace of Frenchmen, curled monsieurs, To an indifferent eye, both show alike. But all familiar objects in the scene, Which now ye miss, that constitute a difference [Smiling. Friends had ye, and much wealth, ye now have And take no note of all its slippery changes! Without the ills and falsehoods of the greater; SIMON. Only the dangerous errors, fond conceits As, namely, riches, honors, birth, place, courtesy, Soul-killing lies, and truths that work small good, (MARGARET enters in boy's apparel.) SIR WALTER. What pretty boy have we here? MARGARET. nothing; A little boon, and yet so great a grace, Bonjour, messieurs. Ye have handsome English faces. She fears to ask it. A scant petition, Margaret, but take it, [Addresses them both. Better the dead were gather'd to the dead, You to the sweet society of your equals, MARGARET. In the name of the boy-god, who plays at hoodman-blind with the Muses, and cares not whom he catches; what is it you love? SIMON. Simply, all things that live, From the crook'd worm to man's imperial form, In the upper sky. The fish in th' other element, MARGARET. I myself love all these things, yet so as with a difference-for example, some animals better than others, some men rather than other men; the nightingale before the cuckoo, the swift and graceful palfrey before the slow and asinine mule. Your humor goes to confound all qualities. What sports do you use in the forest?— SIMON. Not many; some few, as thus:— To see the sun to bed, and to arise, Like some hot amourist with glowing eyes, Go eddying round; and small birds, how they fare, Where the world's fashion smiles on youth and beauty. When mother Autumn fills their beaks with corn, MARGARET. Filch'd from the careless Amalthea's horn; Where young men's flatteries cozen young maids' And how the woods berries and worms provide Without their pains, when earth has nought beside To view the graceful deer come tripping by, To mark the structure of a plant or tree, And afterwards them paint in simile. Mistress Margaret will have need of some refresh ment. Please you, we have some poor viands within. MARGARET. Indeed I stand in need of them. SIR WALTER. Under the shade of a thick-spreading tree, We'll eat our noon-tide meal; and, dinner done, To seek some safe night-lodging in the town, SIMON. Allons, young Frenchman JOHN. That every man should sing, and be joyful, and ask no questions. SECOND GENTLEMAN. Damn politics, they spoil drinking. THIRD GENTLEMAN. For certain, 't is a blessed monarchy. SECOND GENTLEMAN. The cursed fanatic days, we have seen! The times have been when swearing was out of fashion. heard uttered, when a man could not rap out an The cursed yeas and forsooths, which we have innocent oath, but straight the air was thought to be infected. LOVEL. "T was a pleasant trick of the saint, which that trim puritan Swear-not-at-all Smooth-speech used, when his spouse chid him with an oath for committing with with burnt brandy, and ends of scripture, to disperse his servant-maid, to cause his house to be fumigated the devil's breath, as he termed it. Ha! ha! ha! ALL. GRAY. It hath as many names as qualities. It is denominated indifferently, wit, conceit, invention, inspiration; But 't was pleasanter, when the other saint Resistbut its most royal and comprehensive name is fancy. THIRD GENTLEMAN. And where keeps he this sovereign liquor? the-devil-and-he-will-flee-from-thee Pureman was overtaken in the act, to plead an illusio visûs, and maintain his sanctity upon a supposed power in the adversary to counterfeit the shapes of things. Ha! ha ha! ALL. JOHN. Another round, and then let every man devise what trick he can in his fancy, for the better manifesting our loyalty this day. GRAY. Shall we hang a puritan? JOHN. No, that has been done already in Coleman-Street. SECOND GENTLEMAN. [The goblets are brought. They drink the king's JOHN. We have here the unchecked virtues of the grape. How the vapors curl upwards! It were a life of gods to dwell in such an element: to see, and hear, and talk brave things. Now fie upon these casual potations. That a man's most exalted reason should depend upon the ignoble fermenting of a fruit which sparrows pluck at as well as we! GRAY (aside to Lovel). Observe how he is ravished. LOVEL. [They go out, singing. Only Lovel remains, who observes Woodvil. JOHN (still talking to himself.) This Lovel here's of a tough honesty, Talks little, flatters less, and makes no promises; Vanity and gay thoughts of wine do meet in him, Why this is he, whom the dark-wisdom'd fate and engender madness. Might trust her counsels of predestination with, LOVEL. [Seeing LOVEL To see the fire-works, where you will be expected to follow. But I perceive you are better engaged. JOHN. I have been meditating this half-hour May lawfully forswear himself for his friend; LOVEL. I think many men would die for their friends. JOHN. Death! why 't is nothing. We go to it for sport, venture on it, To cure the hot fits and cold shakings of jealousy. A friend, sir, must do more. LOVEL. Can he do more than die ? To serve a friend, this he may do. Pray mark me. I believe, a certain fondness, You have now the pledge of a dear father's life. And by our well-knit friendship I conjure you, [Kneels. A child-like cleaving to the land that gave him birth, You see these tears. My father's an old man. Chains him like fate. LOVEL. I have known some exiles thus To linger out the term of the law's indulgence, To the hazard of being known. JOHN. You may suppose sometimes Pray let him live. LOVEL. I must be bold to tell you, these new freedoms Ha! do you say so? JOHN (rising). Sure, you are not grown proud upon my secret! They use the neighb'ring Sherwood for their sport, No doubt a garrulous and hard-faced traitor 'Their exercise und freer recreation. I see you smile. Pray now, be careful. LOVEL I am no babbler sir; you need not fear me. JOHN. But I'll not give you leave. LOVEL. What does this madman mean? JOHN. Come, sir, here is no subterfuge. But some men have been known to talk in their sleep, You must kill me, or I kill you. And tell fine tales that way. I have heard so much. sleep alone. [Draws. LOVEL LOVEL (drawing). [They fight. |
