 | The Jealous Lovers |  |
SCEN. VI.
Ballio, Simo, Thrasymachus, Hyperbolus, Chærilus, Bomolochus, Phryne.Ball.
Phryne, here is a boy of wealth, my girle,
The golden bull that got this golden calf
Deeply in love with thee.
Phryn.
Let me alone,
I'le fleece him.—
Ball.
Melt him, Phryne, melt him:
We must not leave this mine till we have found
The largenesse of the vein.—Suck like an horse-leach.
Come, Sir, and boldly enter: I have choak't out
An easie path to tread in; 'twill direct you
To your wished journeys end, and lodge you safe
In her soft arms.
Sim.
Thou art my better Angel.
Wilt thou eat gold, drink gold, lie in gold,
I have it for thee. Old men are twice children,
And so was I, but I am grown again
Up to right man.—Thou shalt be my Tutour too.
Is there no stools, or tables?
Ball.
What to doe?
Sim.
I would vault over them, to shew the strength
And courage of my back.
Ball.
Strike boldly in, Sir.
Sim.
Save you, Gentlemen. If you want gold, here's for you.
Give me some wine: Mistresse, a health to you:
Pledge me, and spice the cup with these and these.
Thou shalt have better gowns.
Thras.
A brave old boy.
Hyper.
There's mettall in him.
Chær.
I will sing thy praise
In lines heroick.
Bom.
I will tune my lyre,
And chaunt an ode that shall eternize thee.
Phryn.
Of what a sweet aspect! how lovely look'd
Is this fine Gentleman!—I hope you know
It is in Thebes the custome to salute
Fair ladies with a kisse.—
Sim.
She is enamour'd.
46
Fair Lady, health and wealth attend thee.
Phryn.
Good Sir, another kisse: you have a breath
Compos'd of odours.
Sim.
Buy thee toyes with this:
I'le send thee more.
Phryn.
How ravishing is his face?
Sim.
That I should have so ravishing a face,
And never know it!—Miser that I was!
I will go home and buy a looking glasse,
To be acquainted with my parts hereafter.
Phryn.
Come, lie thee down by me; here we will sit.
How comely are these silver hairs? This hand
Is e'ne as right to my own minde, as if
I had the making of it. Let me throw
My arms about thee.
Ball.
How the burre cleaves to him!
Sim.
This remnant of my age will make amends
For all the time that I have spent in care.
Phryn.
Give me thy hand. How smooth a palm he has!
How with a touch it melts!
Ball.
The rogue abuses him
With his greasie fists.
Phryn.
Let us score kisses up
On one anothers lips. Thou shalt not speak,
But I will suck thy words e're they have felt
The open aire.—
Sim.
That I should live so long,
And ignorant of such a wealth as this!
| The Jealous Lovers | |