lderness
The trees hang full of divers colour'd fruit,
From orange-tawny to sloe-black, egad,
They'll hang until they rot or ere I pluck them,
While I've my melting, rosy nonpareil. [_Kiss._

ALICE. Oh! you're a Judas!

WALTER. Then am I a Jew!

_Enter SMITH, PERCY, NANTAQUAS, LARRY, &c._

SMITH. Yet, prince, accept at least my ardent thanks:
A thousand times told over, they would fail
To pay what you and your dear sister claim.
Through my long absence from my people here,
You have sustain'd their feebleness.

NANTAQUAS. O brother,
To you, the conqueror of our father's foes;
To you, the sun which from our darken'd minds
Has chas'd the clouds of error, what can we
Not to remain your debtors?

SMITH. Gen'rous soul!
Your friendship is my pride. But who knows aught
Of our young Rolfe?

PERCY. This morning, sir, I hear,
An hour ere our arrival, the lieutenant
Accompanied the princess to her father's.

SMITH. Methinks our laughing friend has found at last
The power of sparkling eyes. What say you, prince,
To a brave, worthy soldier for your brother?

NANTAQUAS. Were I to choose, I'd put all other by
To make his path-way clear unto my sister.
But come, sir, shall we to my father's banquet?
One of my train I've sent to give him tidings
Of your long-wish'd for coming.

SMITH. Gentle prince,
You greet my fresh return with welcome summons,
And I obey it cheerfully. Good Walter,
And, worthy sir [_To LARRY._], be it your care
To play the queen bee here, and keep the swarm
Still gathering busily. Look to it well:
Our new-raised hive must hold no drones within it.
Now, forward, sirs, to Werocomoco.
[_Exeunt SMITH, PRINCE, PERCY, &c._

_Manent WALTER and LARRY._

WALTER. So, my compeer in honour, we must hold
The staff of sway between us.

LARRY. Arrah, man,
If we hould it between us, any rogue
Shall run clean off before it knocks him down,
While at each end we tug for mastery.

WALTER. Tush, man! we'll strike in unison.

LARRY. Go to--

WALTER. And first, let's to the forest--the young sparks
In silken doublets there are felling trees,
Poor, gentle masters, with their soft palms blister'd;
And, while they chop and chop, they swear and swear,
Drowning with oaths the echo of their axe.

LARRY. Are they so hot in choler?

WALTER.