thou wilt take exceeding pleasure in 'em, if thou hearest 'em once go: my wind instruments. I'll wind 'em up- -But what strange piece of silence is this? The sign of the dumb man?

Y. Kno. Oh, sir, a kinsman of mine; one that may make your music the fuller, an' please: he has his humour, sir.

Well. Oh, what is't, what is't?

Y. Kno. Nay, I'll neither do your judgment, nor his folly, that wrong, as to prepare your apprehensions. I'll leave him to the mercy o' your search, if you can take him so.

Well. Well, Captain Bóbadil, Mr. Matthew, I pray you know this gentleman here: he is a friend of mine, and one that will deserve your affection. I know not your name, sir, but shall be glad of any occasion to render me more familiar to you.

Step. My name is Mr. Stephen, sir: I am this genman's own cousin, sir; his father is mine uncle, sir ; I am somewhat melancholy, but you shall command me, sir, in whatsoever is incident to a gentleman.

Bob. I must tell you this, I am no general man? but, for Mr. Wellbred's sake (you may embrace it at what height of favour you please,) I do communicate with you; and conceive you to be a gentleman of some parts. I love few words.

Y. Kno. And I fewer, sir. I have scarce enow to thank you.

Mat. But are you indeed, sir, so given to it? [To MR. STEPHEN.; Step. Ay, truly, sir, I am mightily given to melancholy.

Mat. Oh, it's your only fine humour, sir; your true melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit, sir: Į am melancholy myself divers times, sir, and then do I no more but take a pen and paper presently, and overflow you half a score or a dozen of sonnets, at a sitting.

E

Step. Cousin, am I melancholy enough?
Y. Kno. Oh, ay, excellent!

Well. Captain Bobadil, why muse you so ?
Y. Kno. He is melancholy too.

Bob. Faith, sir, I was thinking of a most honourable piece of service was perform'd, to-morrow, being St. Mark's day, shall be some ten years now. Y. Kno. In what place, Captain?

Bob. Why, at the beleag'ring of Strigonium, where, in less than two hours, seven hundred resolute gentle men as any were in Europe, lost their lives upon the breach. I'll tell you, gentlemen, it was the first but the best leagure, that ever I beheld with these eyes, except the taking of what do you call it, last year, by the Genoese; but that (of all others) was the most fatal and dangerous exploit that ever I was ranged in, since I first bore arms before the face of the enemy, as I am a gentleman and a soldier.

Step. So, I had as lief as an angel, I could swear as well as that gentleman.

Y. Kno. Then you were a servitor at both, it seems; at Strigonium, and what do you call't?

Bob. Oh, lord, sir! by St. George, I was the first man that enter'd the breach; had I not effected it with resolution I had been slain, if I had had a million of lives.

Y. Kno. 'Twas pity you had not ten; a cat's, and your own i'faith. But, was it possible?

Bob. I assure you, upon my reputation, 'tis true, and yourself shall confess.

Y. Kno. You must bring me to the rack first.

Bob. Observe me judicially, sweet sir: they had planted me three demi-culverins, just in the mouth of the breach; now, sir, as we were to give on, their master gunner (a man of no mean skill and mark, you must think) confronts me with his linstock, ready to give fire I, spying his intendment, discharged my

petrionel in his bosom, and with these single arms, my poor rapier, ran violently upon the Moors, that guarded the ordnance, and put them all pellmell to the sword.

Well. To the sword! to the rapier, Captain!

Y. Kno. Oh, it was a good figure observed, sir! But did you all this, Captain, without hurting your blade?

Bob. Without any impeach o' the earth; you shall perceive, sir. It is the most fortunate weapon, that ever rid on a poor gentleman's thigh. Shall I tell you, sir? You talk of Morglay, Excalibur, Durindina, or so! Tut, I lend no credit to that is fabled of 'em ; I know the virtue of mine own, and therefore I dare the boldlier maintain it.

Step. I marvel whether it be a Toledo, or no.
Bob. A most perfect Toledo, I assure you, sir.
Step. I have a countryman of his here.

Mat. Pray you, let's see, sir. Yes, faith, it is!
Bob. This a Toledo ! pish.

Step. Why do you pish, Captain ?

Bob. A Fleming, by Heaven! I'll buy them for a gilder a piece, an' I will have a thousand of them. Y. Kno. How say you, cousin? I told you thus much.

Well. Where bought you it, Mr. Stephen?

Step. Of a scurvy rogue soldier; he swore it was a Toledo.

Bob. A poor provant rapier, no better.

Mat. Mass, I think it be, indeed, now I look on't better.

Bob. Come along, Master Matthew.

[Exeunt BOB. and MATTHEW. Y. Kno. Nay, the longer you look on't the worse. Put it up, put it up!

Step. Well, I will put it up, but by(I ha' forgot the Captain's oath, I thought to have sworn by it) an' e'er I meet him

Well. O, 'tis past help now, sir; you must ha' tience.

pa

Step. Whorson coney catching rascal! I could eat the very hilts for anger.

Y. Kno. A sign of good digestion ; you have an ostrich stomach, cousin.

Step. A stomach! I would I had him here, you should see an' I had a stomach.

Well. It's better as 'tis. Come, gentlemen, shall we go?

Enter BRAINWORM.

Y. Kno. A miracle! cousin! look here! look! here!

Step. O, God'slid, by your leave, do you know me, sir?

Brain. Ay, sir, I know you by sight.

Step. You sold me a rapier, did you not!

Brain. Yes, marry, did I, sir.

Step. You said, it was a Toledo, ha?
Brain. True, I did so.

Step. But it is none !

Brain. No, sir, I confess it is none.

Step. Do you confess it? Gentlemen, bear witness, he has confess'd it. By God's will, an' you had not confess'd it

Y. Kno. Oh, cousin, forbear, forbear.

Step. Nay, I have done, cousin.

Well. Why, you have done like a gentleman, he has confess'd it, what would you more ?

Step. Yet, by his leave, he is a rascal; under his favour, do you see.

Y. Kno. Ay, by his leave, he is, and under favour. Pretty piece of civility! Sirrah, how dost thou like him?

Well. Oh, it's a most precious fool, make much on him, I can compare him to nothing more happily, than a drum; for every one may play upon

him.

Y. Kno. No, no, a child's whistle were far the fitter. Brain. Sir, shall I entreat a word with you?

Y. Kno. With me, sir! You have not another Toledo to sell, ha' you ?

Brain. You are conceited, sir; Kno'well, as I take it?

Y. Kno. You are i'the right. proceed in the catechism, do you?

your name is Mr.

You mean not to

Brain. No, sir, I am none of that coat.

. Y. Kno. Of as bare coat, though! Well, say, sir? Brain. Faith, sir, I am but a servant to the drum extraordinary, and, indeed, this smoky varnish being washed off, and three or four patches removed, I appear your worship's in reversion, after the decease of your good father-Brainworm.

Y. Kno. Brainworm! 'Slight, what breath of a conjurer hath blown thee hither in this shape ?

Brain. The breath o' your letter, sir, this morning: the same that blew you to the Windmill, and your father after you.

Y. Kno. My father!

Brain. Nay, never start: 'tis true: he has followed you over the fields, by the foot, as you would do a hare i'the snow.

Y. Kno. Sirrah,Wellbred, what shall we do, sirrah ? My father is come over after me.

Well. Thy father! Where is he?

Brain. At Justice Clement's house, here, in Coleman Street, where he but stays my return; and then

Well. Who is this? Brainworm ?

Brain. The same, sir.

Well. Why, how, i'the name of wit, comest thou transmuted thus?

Brain. Faith, a device! A device! Nay, for the love of reason, gentlemen, and avoiding the danger, stand not here; withdraw, and I'll tell you all.

Y. Kno. Come, cousin.

[Exeunt.