t Duke and brothers and Fred_.
_Enter Otho_.
_Otho_. Yonder she goes, the mirrour of her sexe.--
Stay, beauteous _Euphrata_.
_Euph. Otho_! what, _Julia_?
_Ju_. Here, madam! what's your will?
_Euph_. Call _Constantine_;
Tell him his deare friend _Otho_ is return'd.
_Ju_. I will.
_Otho_. Stay, _Julia_.
_Euph_. Doe as I bid you, goe. [_Exit Julia_.
_Otho_. I had rather have a word or twaine with you.
_Euph_. I have heard him oft enquire for thee his friend,
I have heard him sigh, I have seene him weepe for thee,
Imagining some mischiefe or distresse
Had falne thee since the closets separation.
_Otho_.--And what a slave am I to wrong this friend!
_Enter Constantine and Julia_.
_Con_. Where is he?
_Ju_. Here.
_Con_. The welcom'st man alive.
Unkind, how couldst thou stay from me so long?
_Otho_. I have bin ill at ease, pray pardon me;
But I rejoyce to see my friend so well.
_Euph_. Some Ladies love hath made him melancholy.
_Otho_. Shee hath read the letter that I lately sent her
In a pomegranat, by those words I hope.
_Con_. Why speake you not? is't love or melancholy?
_Otho_. If upon love my grief is melancholy?
_Con_. Ile have the best Phisitians here in _Meath_
Assay by art to cure that maladie.
_Euph_. Gainst mellancholy minds your onely Phisick
Our Saxon doctors hold that principle.
Now I remember you did lately send me
A choice pomegranate; fetch it, _Julia_.
Some of those graines well stir'd in _Gascoine_ wine
Is present remedie.
_Otho_. Madam, Ile none:
Of all fruits, that I hate.
_Euph_. And commended it
So highly by the messenger that brought it!
_Con_. Twas well remembred, you shall take a graine.
_Otho_. You will but vexe me.
_Con_. So his melancholly
Doth make him froward with his dearest friend.
_Enter Julia with the pomegranate_.
Tis well done, _Julia_, quickely cut it up;
And bring a cup of wine, or let me doo't.
_Otho_. I see I shall be plagu'd with mine owne wit;
Being asham'd to speake, I writ my minde.--
Were you my friends, you would not martyr me
With needlesse phisicke; fie upon this trash,
The very sight is loathsome.
_Con_. Take it up:
But let me see, what letter's that that dropt?
Came it from you, or from the _Spanish_ fruit?
_Ju_. Tis all the graines that the pomegranate had.
_Con_. Then theres some trechery within these graines:
Ile breake it up.
And tis directed to my _Euphrata_.
_Euph_. Wha
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