No More Learning

-- [_Aside. _
Madam, I thought I had instructed you [_To_ ALMEYDA.
To frame a speech more suiting to the times:
The circumstances of that dire design,
Your own despair, my unexpected aid,
My life endangered by his bold defence,
And, after all, his death, and your deliverance,
Were themes that ought not to be slighted o'er.

_Must. _ She might have passed over all your petty businesses, and no
great matter; but the raising of my rabble is an exploit of
consequence, and not to be mumbled up in silence, for all her
pertness.

_Alm. _ When force invades the gift of nature, life,
The eldest law of nature bids defend;
And if in that defence a tyrant fall,
His death's his crime, not ours,
Suffice it, that he's dead; all wrongs die with him;
When he can wrong no more, I pardon him:
Thus I absolve myself, and him excuse,
Who saved my life and honour, but praise neither.

_Bend. _ 'Tis cheap to pardon, whom you would not pay.
But what speak I of payment and reward!
Ungrateful woman, you are yet no queen,
Nor more than a proud haughty christian slave:
As such I seize my right. [_Going to lay hold of her. _

_Alm. _ [_Drawing a Dagger. _] Dare not to approach me! --
Now, Africans,
He shows himself to you; to me he stood
Confessed before, and owned his insolence
To espouse my person, and assume the crown,
Claimed in my right; for this, he slew your tyrant;
Oh no! he only changed him for a worse;
Embased your slavery by his own vileness,
And loaded you with more ignoble bonds.
Then think me not ungrateful, not to share
The imperial crown with a presuming traitor.
He says, I am a Christian; true, I am,
But yet no slave: If Christians can be thought
Unfit to govern those of other faith,
'Tis left for you to judge.

_Bend. _ I have not patience; she consumes the time
In idle talk, and owns her false belief:
Seize her by force, and bear her thence unheard.

_Alm. _ [_To the People. _]
No, let me rather die your sacrifice,
Than live his triumph.
I throw myself into my people's arms;
As you are men, compassionate my wrongs,
And, as good men, protect me.

_Ant. _ Something must be done to save her. [_Aside to_ MUST. ] This is
all addressed to you, sir: she singled you out with her eye, as
commander in chief of the mobility.

_Must. _ Think'st thou so, slave Antonio?

_Ant. _ Most certainly, sir; and you cannot, in honour, but protect
her: now look to your hits, and make your fortune.

_Must. _ Methought, indeed, she cast a kind leer towards me. Our
prophet was but just such another scoundrel as I am, till he raised
himself to power, and consequently to holiness, by marrying his
master's widow. I am resolved I'll put forward for myself; for why
should I be my lord Benducar's fool and slave, when I may be my own
fool and his master?

_Bend. _ Take her into possession, Mustapha.

_Must. _ That's better counsel than you meant it: Yes, I do take her
into possession, and into protection too. What say you, masters, will
you stand by me?

_Omnes. _ One and all, one and all.

_Bend. _ Hast thou betrayed me, traitor? --Mufti, speak, and mind them
of religion. [_MUFTI shakes his head. _

_Must. _ Alas! the poor gentleman has gotten a cold with a sermon of
two hours long, and a prayer of fear; and, besides, if he durst speak,
mankind is grown wiser at this time of day than to cut one another's
throats about religion. Our Mufti's is a green coat, and the
Christian's is a black coat; and we must wisely go together by the
ears, whether green or black shall sweep our spoils.
[_Drums within, and shouts. _

_Bend. _ Now we shall see whose numbers will prevail:
The conquering troops of Muley-Zeydan come,
To crush rebellion, and espouse my cause.

_Must. _ We will have a fair trial of skill for it, I can tell him
that. When we have dispatched with Muley-Zeydan, your lordship shall
march, in equal proportions of your body, to the four gates of the
city, and every tower shall have a quarter of you.
[ANTONIO _draws them up, and takes_ ALM.
by_ the hand. Shouts again, and Drums. _

_Enter_ DORAX _and_ SEBASTIAN, _attended by African Soldiers and
Portugueses. _ ALMEYDA _and_ SEBASTIAN _run into each others arms,
and both speak together. _

_Seb. _ and _Alm. _ My Sebastian! my Almeyda!

_Alm. _ Do you then live?

_Seb. _ And live to love thee ever.

_Bend. _ How! Dorax and Sebastian still alive!
The Moors and Christians joined! --I thank thee, prophet.

_Dor. _ The citadel is ours; and Muley-Zeydan
Safe under guard, but as becomes a prince.
Lay down your arms; such base plebeian blood
Would only stain the brightness of my sword,
And blunt it for some nobler work behind.

_Must. _ I suppose you may put it up without offence to any man here
present. For my part, I have been loyal to my sovereign lady, though
that villain Benducar, and that hypocrite the Mufti, would have
corrupted me; but if those two escape public justice, then I and all
my late honest subjects here deserve hanging.

_Bend. _ [_To_ DOR. ] I'm sure I did my part to poison thee,
What saint soe'er has soldered thee again:
A dose less hot had burst through ribs of iron.

_Muf. _ Not knowing that, I poisoned him once more,
And drenched him with a draught so deadly cold,
That, hadst not thou prevented, had congealed
The channel of his blood, and froze him dry.

_Bend. _ Thou interposing fool, to mangle mischief,
And think to mend the perfect work of hell!

_Dor. _ Thus, when heaven pleases, double poisons cure[8].
I will not tax thee of ingratitude
To me, thy friend, who hast betrayed thy prince:
Death he deserved indeed, but not from thee.
But fate, it seems, reserved the worst of men
To end the worst of tyrants. --
Go, bear him to his fate,
And send him to attend his master's ghost.
Let some secure my other poisoning friend,
Whose double diligence preserved my life.

_Ant. _ You are fallen into good hands, father-in-law; your sparkling
jewels, and Morayma's eyes, may prove a better bail than you deserve.

_Muf. _ The best that can come of me, in this condition, is, to have my
life begged first, and then to be begged for a fool afterwards[9].
[_Exeunt_ ANTONIO, _with the Mufti; and, at
the same time,_ BENDUCAR _is carried off. _

_Dor. _ [_To_ MUST. ]
You, and your hungry herd, depart untouched;
For justice cannot stoop so low, to reach
The groveling sin of crowds: but curst be they,
Who trust revenge with such mad instruments,
Whose blindfold business is but to destroy;
And, like the fire, commissioned by the winds,
Begins on sheds, but, rolling in a round,
On palaces returns. Away, ye scum,
That still rise upmost when the nation boils;
Ye mongrel work of heaven, with human shapes,
Not to be damned or saved, but breathe and perish,
That have but just enough of sense, to know
The master's voice, when rated, to depart.
[_Exeunt_ MUSTAPHA _and Rabble. _

_Alm. _ With gratitude as low as knees can pay [_Kneeling to him. _
To those blest holy fires, our guardian angels,
Receive these thanks, till altars can be raised.

_Dor. _ Arise, fair excellence, and pay no thanks, [_Raising her up. _
Till time discover what I have deserved.

_Seb. _ More than reward can answer.
If Portugal and Spain were joined to Africa,
And the main ocean crusted into land,
If universal monarchy were mine,
Here should the gift be placed.

_Dor. _ And from some hands I should refuse that gift.
Be not too prodigal of promises;
But stint your bounty to one only grant,
Which I can ask with honour.

_Seb. _ What I am
Is but thy gift; make what thou canst of me,
Secure of no repulse.

_Dor. _ [_To_ SEB. ] Dismiss your train. --
[_To_ ALM. ] You, madam, please one moment to retire.
[SEBASTIAN _signs to the Portugueses to go
off;_ ALMEYDA, _bowing to him, gives off
also. The Africans follow her. _

_Dor. _ [_To the Captain of the Guard. _]
With you one word in private. [_Goes out with the Captain. _

_Seb. _ [_Solus. _] Reserved behaviour, open nobleness,
A long mysterious track of stern bounty:
But now the hand of fate is on the curtain,
And draws the scene to sight.

_Re-enter_ DORAX, _having taken off his Turban, and put on a Peruke,
Hat, and Cravat. _

_Dor. _ Now, do you know me?

_Seb. _ Thou shouldst be Alonzo.

_Dor. _ So you should be Sebastian:
But when Sebastian ceased to be himself,
I ceased to be Alonzo.

_Seb. _ As in a dream,
I see thee here, and scarce believe mine eyes.

_Dor. _ Is it so strange to find me, where my wrongs,
And your inhuman tyranny, have sent me?
Think not you dream; or, if you did, my injuries
Shall call so loud, that lethargy should wake,
And death should give you back to answer me.
A thousand nights have brushed their balmy wings
Over these eyes; but ever when they closed,
Your tyrant image forced them ope again,
And dried the dews they brought:
The long expected hour is come at length,
By manly vengeance to redeem my fame;
And, that once cleared, eternal sleep is welcome.

_Seb. _ I have not yet forgot I am a king,
Whose royal office is redress of wrongs:
If I have wronged thee, charge me face to face;--
I have not yet forgot I am a soldier.

_Dor. _ 'Tis the first justice thou hast ever done me.
Then, though I loath this woman's war of tongues,
Yet shall my cause of vengeance first be clear;
And, honour, be thou judge.

_Seb. _ Honour befriend us both. --
Beware I warn thee yet, to tell thy griefs
In terms becoming majesty to hear:
I warn thee thus, because I know thy temper
Is insolent, and haughty to superiors.
How often hast thou braved my peaceful court,
Filled it with noisy brawls, and windy boasts;
And with past service, nauseously repeated,
Reproached even me, thy prince?

_Dor. _ And well I might, when you forgot reward,
The part of heaven in kings; for punishment
Is hangman's work, and drudgery for devils. --
I must, and will reproach thee with my service,
Tyrant! --It irks me so to call my prince;
But just resentment, and hard usage, coined
The unwilling word; and, grating as it is,
Take it, for 'tis thy due.

_Seb. _ How, tyrant?

_Dor. _ Tyrant.

_Seb. _ Traitor! --that name thou canst not echo back;
That robe of infamy, that circumcision
Ill hid beneath that robe, proclaim thee traitor;
And, if a name
More foul than traitor be, 'tis renegade.

_Dor. _ If I'm a traitor, think,--and blush, thou tyrant,--
Whose injuries betrayed me into treason,
Effaced my loyalty, unhinged my faith,
And hurried me, from hopes of heaven, to hell.
All these, and all my yet unfinished crimes,
When I shall rise to plead before the saints,
I charge on thee, to make thy damning sure.

_Seb. _ Thy old presumptuous arrogance again,
That bred my first dislike, and then my loathing. --
Once more be warned, and know me for thy king.

_Dor. _ Too well I know thee, but for king no more.
This is not Lisbon; nor the circle this,
Where, like a statue, thou hast stood besieged
By sycophants and fools, the growth of courts;
Where thy gulled eyes, in all the gaudy round,
Met nothing but a lie in every face,
And the gross flattery of a gaping crowd,
Envious who first should catch, and first applaud,
The stuff of royal nonsense: When I spoke,
My honest homely words were carped and censured
For want of courtly style; related actions,
Though modestly reported, passed for boasts;
Secure of merit if I asked reward,
Thy hungry minions thought their rights invaded,
And the bread snatched from pimps and parasites.
Henriquez answered, with a ready lie,
To save his king's,--the boon was begged before!

_Seb. _ What say'st thou of Henriquez? Now, by heaven,
Thou mov'st me more by barely naming him,
Than all thy foul unmannered scurril taunts.

_Dor. _ And therefore 'twas, to gall thee, that I named him.
That thing, that nothing, but a cringe and smile;
That woman, but more daubed; or, if a man,
Corrupted to a woman; thy man-mistress.

_Seb. _ All false as hell, or thou.

_Dor. _ Yes; full as false
As that I served thee fifteen hard campaigns,
And pitched thy standard in these foreign fields:
By me thy greatness grew, thy years grew with it,
But thy ingratitude outgrew them both.

_Seb. _ I see to what thou tend'st: but, tell me first,
If those great acts were done alone for me?
If love produced not some, and pride the rest?

_Dor. _ Why, love does all that's noble here below;
But all the advantage of that love was thine.
For, coming fraughted back, in either hand
With palm and olive, victory and peace,
I was indeed prepared to ask my own,
(For Violante's vows were mine before:)
Thy malice had prevention, ere I spoke;
And asked me Violante for Henriquez.

_Seb. _ I meant thee a reward of greater worth.

_Dor. _ Where justice wanted, could reward be hoped?
Could the robbed passenger expect a bounty
From those rapacious hands, who stripped him first?

_Seb. _ He had my promise, ere I knew thy love.

_Dor.
_ My services deserved thou shouldst revoke it.

_Seb. _ Thy insolence had cancelled all thy service:
To violate my laws, even in my court,
Sacred to peace, and safe from all affronts;
Even to my face, and done in my despite,
Under the wing of awful majesty,
To strike the man I loved!

_Dor. _ Even in the face of heaven, a place more sacred,
Would I have struck the man, who, prompt by power,
Would seize my right, and rob me of my love:
But, for a blow provoked by thy injustice,
The hasty product of a just despair,
When he refused to meet me in the field,
That thou shouldst make a coward's cause thy own!

_Seb. _ He durst; nay more, desired, and begged with tears,
To meet thy challenge fairly: 'Twas thy fault
To make it public; but my duty, then,
To interpose, on pain of my displeasure,
Betwixt your swords.

_Dor. _ On pain of infamy,
He should have disobeyed.

_Seb. _ The indignity, thou didst, was meant to me:
Thy gloomy eyes were cast on me with scorn,
As who should say,--the blow was there intended:
But that thou didst not dare to lift thy hands
Against anointed power. So was I forced
To do a sovereign justice to myself,
And spurn thee from my presence.

_Dor. _ Thou hast dared
To tell me, what I durst not tell myself:
I durst not think that I was spurned, and live;
And live to hear it boasted to my face.
All my long avarice of honour lost,
Heaped up in youth, and hoarded up for age!
Has honour's fountain then sucked back the stream?
He has; and hooting boys may dry-shod pass,
And gather pebbles from the naked ford. --
Give me my love, my honour; give them back--
Give me revenge, while I have breath to ask it!

_Seb. _ Now, by this honoured order which I wear,
More gladly would I give, than thou dar'st ask it;
Nor shall the sacred character of king
Be urged, to shield me from thy bold appeal.
If I have injured thee, that makes us equal;
The wrong, if done, debased me down to thee.
But thou hast charged me with ingratitude;
Hast thou not charged me? speak!

_Dor. _ Thou know'st I have:
If thou disown'st that imputation, draw,
And prove my charge a lie.

_Seb. _ No; to disprove that lie, I must not draw.
Be conscious to thy worth, and tell thy soul,
What thou hast done this day in my defence.
To fight thee after this, what were it else
Than owning that ingratitude thou urgest?
That isthmus stands between two rushing seas;
Which, mounting, view each other from afar,
And strive in vain to meet.

_Dor. _ I'll cut that isthmus.
Thou know'st I meant not to preserve thy life,
But to reprieve it, for my own revenge.
I saved thee out of honourable malice:
Now, draw;--I should be loth to think thou dar'st not:
Beware of such another vile excuse.

_Seb. _ O patience, heaven!

_Dor. _ Beware of patience, too;
That's a suspicious word. It had been proper,
Before thy foot had spurned me; now 'tis base:
Yet, to disarm thee of thy last defence,
I have thy oath for my security.
The only boon I begged was this fair combat:
Fight, or be perjured now; that's all thy choice.

_Seb. _ Now can I thank thee as thou would'st be thanked. [_Drawing. _
Never was vow of honour better paid,
If my true sword but hold, than this shall be.
The sprightly bridegroom, on his wedding night,
More gladly enters not the lists of love:
Why, 'tis enjoyment to be summoned thus.
Go, bear my message to Henriquez ghost;
And say, his master and his friend revenged him.

_Dor. _ His ghost! then is my hated rival dead?

_Seb. _ The question is beside our present purpose:
Thou seest me ready; we delay too long.

_Dor. _ A minute is not much in either's life,
When there's but one betwixt us; throw it in,
And give it him of us who is to fail.

_Seb. _ He's dead; make haste, and thou may'st yet o'ertake him.

_Dor. _ When I was hasty, thou delayed'st me longer--
I pr'ythee let me hedge one moment more
Into thy promise: For thy life preserved,
Be kind; and tell me how that rival died,
Whose death, next thine, I wished.

_Seb. _ If it would please thee, thou shouldst never know;
But thou, like jealousy, enquir'st a truth,
Which, found, will torture thee. --He died in fight;
Fought next my person; as in concert fought;
Kept pace for pace, and blow for every blow;
Save when he heaved his shield in my defence,
And on his naked side received my wound.
Then, when he could no more, he fell at once;
But rolled his falling body cross their way,
And made a bulwark of it for his prince.

_Dor. _ I never can forgive him such a death!

_Seb. _ I prophesied thy proud soul could not bear it. --
Now, judge thyself, who best deserved my love?
I knew you both; and (durst I say) as heaven
Foreknew, among the shining angel host,
Who would stand firm, who fall.

_Dor. _ Had he been tempted so, so had he fallen;
And so had I been favoured, had I stood.

_Seb. _ What had been, is unknown; what is, appears.
Confess, he justly was preferred to thee.

_Dor. _ Had I been born with his indulgent stars,
My fortune had been his, and his been mine. --
O worse than hell! what glory have I lost,
And what has he acquired, by such a death!
I should have fallen by Sebastian's side,
My corps had been the bulwark of my king.
His glorious end was a patched work of fate,
Ill sorted with a soft effeminate life;
It suited better with my life than his,
So to have died: Mine had been of a piece,
Spent in your service, dying at your feet.

_Seb. _ The more effeminate and soft his life,
The more his fame, to struggle to the field,
And meet his glorious fate. Confess, proud spirit,
(For I will have it from thy very mouth)
That better he deserved my love than thou?

_Dor. _ O, whither would you drive me? I must grant,--
Yes, I must grant, but with a swelling soul,--
Henriquez had your love with more desert.
For you he fought, and died: I fought against you;
Through all the mazes of the bloody field,
Hunted your sacred life; which that I missed
Was the propitious error of my fate,
Not of my soul: My soul's a regicide.

_Seb. _ [_More calmly. _]
Thou might'st have given it a more gentle name.
Thou meant'st to kill a tyrant, not a king:
Speak, didst thou not, Alonzo?

_Dor. _ Can I speak!
Alas, I cannot answer to Alonzo! --
No, Dorax cannot answer to Alonzo;
Alonzo was too kind a name for me.
Then, when I fought and conquered with your arms,
In that blest age, I was the man you named:
Till rage and pride debased me into Dorax,
And lost, like Lucifer, my name above.

_Seb. _ Yet twice this day I owed my life to Dorax.

_Dor. _ I saved you but to kill you: There's my grief.

_Seb. _ Nay, if thou can'st be grieved, thou can'st repent;
Thou could'st not be a villain, though thou would'st:
Thou own'st too much, in owning thou hast erred;
And I too little, who provoked thy crime.

_Dor. _ O stop this headlong torrent of your goodness!
It comes too fast upon a feeble soul,
Half drowned in tears before: Spare my confusion;
For pity spare; and say not first, you erred;
For yet I have not dared, through guilt and shame,
To throw myself beneath your royal feet. -- [_Falls at his feet. _
Now spurn this rebel, this proud renegade;
'Tis just you should, nor will I more complain.

_Seb. _ Indeed thou should'st not ask forgiveness first;
But thou prevent'st me still, in all that's noble. [_Taking him up. _
Yes, I will raise thee up with better news.
Thy Violante's heart was ever thine;
Compelled to wed, because she was my ward,
Her soul was absent when she gave her hand;
Nor could my threats, or his pursuing courtship,
Effect the consummation of his love:
So, still indulging tears, she pines for thee,
A widow, and a maid.

_Dor. _ Have I been cursing heaven, while heaven blest me?
I shall run mad with extacy of joy:
What! in one moment, to be reconciled
To heaven, and to my king, and to my love! --
But pity is my friend, and stops me short,
For my unhappy rival:--Poor Henriquez!

_Seb. _ Art thou so generous, too, to pity him?
Nay, then, I was unjust to love him better.
Here let me ever hold thee in my arms; [_Embracing him. _
And all our quarrels be but such as these,
Who shall love best, and closest shall embrace.
Be what Henriquez was,--be my Alonzo.

_Dor. _ What, my Alonzo, said you? my Alonzo!
Let my tears thank you, for I cannot speak;
And, if I could,
Words were not made to vent such thoughts as mine.

_Seb. _ Some strange reverse of fate must sure attend
This vast profusion, this extravagance
Of heaven, to bless me thus. 'Tis gold so pure,
It cannot bear the stamp, without alloy. --
Be kind, ye powers! and take but half away:
With ease the gifts of fortune I resign;
But let my love and friend be ever mine. [_Exeunt. _


ACT V. SCENE I.

_The Scene is, a Room of State. _

_Enter_ DORAX _and_ ANTONIO.

_Dor. _ Joy is on every face, without a cloud;
As, in the scene of opening paradise,
The whole creation danced at their new being,
Pleased to be what they were, pleased with each other,
Such joy have I, both in myself and friends;
And double joy that I have made them happy.

_Ant. _ Pleasure has been the business of my life;
And every change of fortune easy to me,
Because I still was easy to myself.
The loss of her I loved would touch me nearest;
Yet, if I found her, I might love too much,
And that's uneasy pleasure.

_Dor. _ If she be fated
To be your wife, your fate will find her for you:
Predestinated ills are never lost.

_Ant. _ I had forgot
To inquire before, but long to be informed,
How, poisoned and betrayed, and round beset,
You could unwind yourself from all these dangers,
And move so speedily to our relief?

_Dor. _ The double poisons, after a short combat,
Expelled each other in their civil war,
By nature's benefit, and roused my thoughts
To guard that life which now I found attacked.
I summoned all my officers in haste,
On whose experienced faith I might rely;
All came resolved to die in my defence,
Save that one villain who betrayed the gate.
Our diligence prevented the surprise
We justly feared: So Muley-Zeydan found us
Drawn up in battle, to receive the charge.

_Ant. _ But how the Moors and Christian slaves were joined,
You have not yet unfolded.

_Dor. _ That remains.
We knew their interest was the same with ours:
And, though I hated more than death Sebastian,
I could not see him die by vulgar hands;
But, prompted by my angel, or by his,
Freed all the slaves, and placed him next myself,
Because I would not have his person known.
I need not tell the rest, the event declares it.

_Ant. _ Your conquests came of course; their men were raw,
And yours were disciplined. --One doubt remains,
Why you industriously concealed the king,
Who, known, had added courage to his men?

_Dor. _ I would not hazard civil broils betwixt
His friends and mine; which might prevent our combat.
Yet, had he fallen, I had dismissed his troops;
Or, if victorious, ordered his escape. --
But I forgot a new increase of joy
To feast him with surprise; I must about it:
Expect my swift return. [_Exit. _

_Enter a Servant. _

_Serv. _ Here's a lady at the door, that bids me tell you, she is come
to make an end of the game, that was broken off betwixt you.

_Ant. _ What manner of woman is she? Does she not want two of the four
elements? has she any thing about her but air and fire?

_Serv. _ Truly, she flies about the room as if she had wings instead of
legs; I believe she's just turning into a bird:--A house bird I
warrant her:--And so hasty to fly to you, that, rather than fail of
entrance, she would come tumbling down the chimney, like a swallow.

_Enter_ MORAYMA.

_Ant. _ [_Running to her, and embracing her. _] Look, if she be not here
already! --What, no denial it seems will serve your turn? Why, thou
little dun, is thy debt so pressing?

_Mor. _ Little devil, if you please: Your lease is out, good master
conjurer, and I am come to fetch your soul and body; not an hour of
lewdness longer in this world for you.

_Ant. _ Where the devil hast thou been? and how the devil didst thou
find me here?

_Mor. _ I followed you into the castle-yard, but there was nothing but
tumult and confusion: and I was bodily afraid of being picked up by
some of the rabble; considering I had a double charge about me,--my
jewels, and my maidenhead.

_Ant. _ Both of them intended for my worship's sole use and property.

_Mor. _ And what was poor little I among them all?

_Ant. _ Not a mouthful a-piece: 'Twas too much odds, in conscience!

_Mor. _ So, seeking for shelter, I naturally ran to the old place of
assignation, the garden-house; where, for the want of instinct, you
did not follow me.

_Ant. _ Well, for thy comfort, I have secured thy father; and I hope
thou hast secured his effects for us.

_Mor. _ Yes, truly, I had the prudent foresight to consider, that, when
we grow old, and weary of solacing one another, we might have, at
least, wherewithal to make merry with the world; and take up with a
worse pleasure of eating and drinking, when we were disabled for a
better.

_Ant. _ Thy fortune will be even too good for thee; for thou art going
into the country of serenades and gallantries, where thy street will
be haunted every night with thy foolish lovers, and my rivals, who
will be sighing and singing, under thy inexorable windows, lamentable
ditties, and call thee cruel, and goddess, and moon, and stars, and
all the poetical names of wicked rhime; while thou and I are minding
our business, and jogging on, and laughing at them, at leisure
minutes, which will be very few; take that by way of threatening.

_Mor. _ I am afraid you are not very valiant, that you huff so much
beforehand. But, they say, your churches are fine places for
love-devotion; many a she-saint is there worshipped.