purchase but a silken cover,
He shall not only pass, but pass regarded:
Whereas, let him be poor, and meanly clad,
Though ne'er so richly parted, you shall have
A fellow that knows nothing but his beef,
Or how to rince his clammy guts in beer,
Will take him by the shoulders, or the throat,
And kick him down the stairs. Such is the state
Of virtue in bad clothes! -- ha, ha, ha, ha!
That raiment should be in such high request!
How long should I be, ere I should put off
To the lord chancellor's tomb, or the shrives' poste?
By heav'n, I think, a thousand, thousand year.
His gravity, his wisdom, and his faith
To my dread sovereign, graces that survive him,
These I could well endure to reverence,
But not his tomb; no more than I'd commend
The chapel organ for the gilt without,
Or this base-viol, for the varnish'd face.

RE-ENTER FASTIDIOUS.
FAST. I fear I have made you stay somewhat long, sir; but is my tobacco
ready, boy?

CIN. Ay, sir.

FAST. Give me; my mistress is upon coming, you shall see her presently,
sir. [PUFFS.] You'll say you never accosted a more piercing wit. -- This
tobacco is not dried, boy, or else the pipe is defective. -- Oh, your wits
of Italy are nothing comparable to her: her brain's a very quiver of
jests, and she does dart them abroad with that sweet, loose, and judicial
aim, that you would -- here she comes, sir.
[SAVIOLINA LOOKS IN, AND DRAWS BACK AGAIN.

MACI. 'Twas time, his invention had been bogged else.

SAV. [WITHIN.] Give me my fan there.

MACI. How now, monsieur Brisk?

FAST. A kind of affectionate reverence strikes me with a cold shivering,
methinks.

MACI. I like such tempers well, as stand before their mistresses with fear
and trembling; and before their Maker, like impudent mountains!

FAST. By this hand, I'd spend twenty pound my vaulting horse stood here
now, she might see do but one trick.

MACI. Why, does she love activity?

CIN. Or, if you had but your long stockings on, to be dancing a galliard
as she comes by.

FAST. Ay, either. O, these stirring humours make ladies mad with desire;
she comes. My good genius embolden me: boy, the pipe quickly.

ENTER SAVIOLINA.
MACI. What! will he give her music?

FAST. A second good morrow to my fair mistress.

SAV. Fair servant, I'll thank you a day hence, wh