e spent
Our youthful days in paled languishment!

STUDIOSO.
Bann'd be those cos'ning arts that wrought our woe,
Making us wand'ring pilgrims to and fro.

PHILOMUSUS.
And pilgrims must we be without relief;
And wheresoe'er we run, there meets us grief.

STUDIOSO.
Where'er we toss upon this crabbed stage,
Griefs our companion; patience be our page.

PHILOMUSUS.
Ah, but this patience is a page of ruth,
A tired lackey to our wand'ring youth!

ACTUS II., SCAENA 2.

ACADEMICO, _solus_.
Fain would I have a living, if I could tell how
to come by it. _Echo_. Buy it.
Buy it, fond Echo? why, thou dost greatly
mistake it. _Echo_. Stake it.
Stake it? what should I stake at this game of
simony? _Echo_. Money.
What, is the world a game? are livings gotten
by paying?[82] _Echo_. Paying.
Paying? But say, what's the nearest way to
come by a living? _Echo_. Giving.
Must his worship's fists be needs then oiled with
angels? _Echo_. Angels.
Ought his gouty fists then first with gold to be
greased? _Echo_. Eased.
And is it then such an ease for his ass's back to
carry money? _Echo_. Ay.
Will, then, this golden ass bestow a vicarage
gilded? _Echo_. Gelded.
What shall I say to good Sir Raderic, that have
no[83] gold here? _Echo_. Cold cheer.
I'll make it my lone request, that he would be
good to a scholar. _Echo_. Choler.
Yea, will he be choleric to hear of an art or a
science? _Echo_. Hence.
Hence with liberal arts? What, then, will he
do with his chancel? _Echo_. Sell.
Sell it? and must a simple clerk be fain to compound
then? _Echo_. Pounds then.
What, if I have no pounds? must then my suit
be prorogued? _Echo_. Rogued.
Yea? given to a rogue? Shall an ass this
vicarage compass? _Echo_. Ass.
What is the reason that I should not be as fortunate
as he? _Echo_. Ass he.
Yet, for all this, with a penniless purse will I
trudge to his worship. _Echo_. Words cheap.
Well, if he give me good words, it's more than I
have from an Echo. _Echo_. Go.

[_Exit_.

ACTUS II, SCAENA 3.

AMORETTO _with an Ovid in his ha