my soul too much,
Thinking that Studioso would account
That fortune sour which thou accountest sweet;
Not[133] any life to me can sweeter be,
Than happy swains in plain of Arcady.

PHILOMUSUS.
Why, then, let's both go spend our little store
In the provision of due furniture,
A shepherd's hook, a tar-box, and a scrip:
And haste unto those sheep-adorned hills,
Where if not bless our fortunes, we may bless our wills.

STUDIOSO.
True mirth we may enjoy in thacked stall,
Nor hoping higher rise, nor fearing lower fall.

PHILOMUSUS.
We'll therefore discharge these fiddlers. Fellow-musicians, we are sorry
that it hath been your ill-hap to have had us in your company, that are
nothing but screech-owls and night-ravens, able to mar the purest
melody: and, besides, our company is so ominous that, where we are,
thence liberality is packing. Our resolution is therefore to wish you
well, and to bid you farewell. Come, Studioso, let us haste away,
Returning ne'er to this accursed place.

ACTUS V., SCAENA 3.

_Enter_ INGENIOSO, ACADEMICO.

INGENIOSO.
Faith, Academico, it's the fear of that fellow--I mean, the sign of the
sergeant's head--that makes me to be so hasty to be gone. To be brief,
Academico, writs are out for me to apprehend me for my plays; and now I
am bound for the Isle of Dogs. Furor and Phantasma comes after, removing
the camp as fast they can. Farewell, _mea si quid vota valebunt_.

ACADEMICO.
Faith, Ingenioso, I think the university is a melancholic life; for
there a good fellow cannot sit two hours in his chamber, but he shall be
troubled with the bill of a drawer or a vintner. But the point is, I
know not how to better myself, and so I am fain to take it.

ACTUS V., SCAENA 4.

PHILOMUSUS, STUDIOSO, FUROR, PHANTASMA.

PHILOMUSUS.
Who have we there? Ingenioso and Academico?

STUDIOSO.
The very same; who are those? Furor and Phantasma?

[FUROR _takes a louse off his sleeve_.

FUROR.
And art thou there, six-footed Mercury?

[PHANTASMA, _with his hand in his bosom_.

Are rhymes become such creepers nowadays?
Presumptuous louse, that doth good manners lack,
Daring to creep upon poet Furor's back!

_Multum refert quibuscum vixeris:
Non videmus manticae quod in tergo est_.

PHILOMUSUS.
What, Furor and Phantasma too, our old college fellows? Let us encounter
them all. Ingenioso, Academico, Furor, Phantasma, God save you all.