t they are decora, and that's better, sir.

CLER: Ay, she must hear argument. Did not Pasiphae, who was a
queen, love a bull? and was not Calisto, the mother of Arcas,
turn'd into a bear, and made a star, mistress Ursula, in the
heavens?

OTT: O lord! that I could have said as much! I will have these
stories painted in the Bear-garden, ex Ovidii metamorphosi.

DAUP: Where is your princess, captain? pray, be our leader.

OTT: That I shall, sir.

CLER: Make haste, good sir Amorous.

[EXEUNT.]

SCENE 3.2.

A ROOM IN MOROSE'S HOUSE.

ENTER MOROSE, EPICOENE, PARSON, AND CUTBEARD.

MOR: Sir, there is an angel for yourself, and a brace of angels
for your cold. Muse not at this manage of my bounty. It is fit we
should thank fortune, double to nature, for any benefit she
confers upon us; besides, it is your imperfection, but my solace.

PAR [SPEAKS AS HAVING A COLD.] I thank your worship; so is it
mine, now.

MOR: What says he, Cutbeard?

CUT: He says, praesto, sir, whensoever your worship needs him, he
can be ready with the like. He got this cold with sitting up late,
and singing catches with cloth-workers.

MOR: No more. I thank him.

PAR: God keep your worship, and give you much joy with your fair
spouse.--[COUGHS.] uh! uh! uh!

MOR: O, O! stay Cutbeard! let him give me five shillings of my
money back. As it is bounty to reward benefits, so is it equity
to mulct injuries. I will have it. What says he?

CUT: He cannot change it, sir.

MOR: It must be changed.

CUT [ASIDE TO PARSON.]: Cough again.

MOR: What says he?

CUT: He will cough out the rest, sir.

PAR: Uh, uh, uh!

MOR: Away, away with him! stop his mouth! away! I forgive it.--

[EXIT CUT. THRUSTING OUT THE PAR.]

EPI: Fie, master Morose, that you will use this violence to a man
of the church.

MOR: How!

EPI: It does not become your gravity, or breeding, as you pretend,
in court, to have offer'd this outrage on a waterman, or any more
boisterous creature, much less on a man of his civil coat.

MOR: You can speak then!

EPI: Yes, sir.

MOR: Speak out, I mean.

EPI: Ay, sir. Why, did you think you had married a statue, or a
motion, only? one of the French puppets, with the eyes turn'd with
a wire? or some innocent out of the hospital, that would stand
with her hands thus, and a p