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_Mem._ Why let her be the Devil, I have spoke When Thunder durst not check me, I must love, I know she was a thing kept for me.
_Eume._ And I know Sir, Though she were born yours, yet your strange behaviour And want--
_Mem._ Thou liest.
_Eum._ I do not.
_Mem._ Ha!
_Eume._ I do not lye Sir, I say you want fair language, nay 'tis certain You cannot say good morrow.
_Mem._ Ye Dog-whelps, The proudest of your prating tongues--
_Eume._ Doe, kill us, Kill us for telling truth: for my part, General, I would not live to see men make a may-game Of him I have made a Master, kill us quickly, Then ye may--
_Mem._ What?
_Eume._ Doe what you list, draw your sword childishly Upon your Servants that are bound to tell ye; I am weary of my life.
_1 Capt._ And I.
_2 Capt._ And all Sir.
_Eume._ Goe to the Princess, make her sport, cry to her I am the glorious man of war.
_Mem._ Pray ye leave me, I am sorry I was angry, I'le think better, Pray no more words.
_Eume_. Good Sir.
_Mem._ Nay then.
_2 Capt._ We are gone Sir. [_Exeunt_ Eume. _and Capt_.
_Enter_ Princess Calis, Lucippe, Cleanthe.
_Cal._ How came he hither? see for Heavens sake wenches, What face, and what postures he puts on, { _Mem. walks aside I do not think he is perfect. { full of strange { gestures._ _Cle._ If your love Have not betray'd his little wits, he's well enough, As well as he will be.
_Cal._ Mark how he muses.
_Lucip._ H'as a Batalia now in's brains, he draws out, now Have at ye Harpers.
_Cle._ See, see, there the fire fails.
_Lucip._ Look what an Alphabet of faces he runs through.
_Cle._ O love, love, how amorously thou look'st In an old rusty armour.
_Cle._ I'll away, for by my troth I fear him.
_Lucip_. Fear the G.o.ds, Madam, And never care what man can do, this fellow With all his frights about him and his furies, His Larums, and his Launces, Swords, and Targets, Nay case him up in armour Cap-a-pe, Yet durst I undertake within two hours, If he durst charge, to give him such a shake, Should shake his Valour off, and make his shanks to ake.
_Cle._ For shame no more.
_Cal._ He muses still.
_Cle._ The Devil-- Why should this old dryed timber chopt with thunder--
_Cal._ Old Wood burns quickest.
_Lucip._ Out, you would say Madam, Give me a green stick that may hold me heat, And smoak me soundly too; He turns, and sees ye. { Memnon { _comes to her_.
_Cle._ There's no avoiding now, have at ye.
_Mem._ Lady.
The more I look upon ye. [_Stays her._
_Cle._ The more you may, Sir.
_Cal._ Let him alone.
_Mem._ I would desire your patience.
The more I say I look, the more-- [_Stays her._
_Lucip._ My Fortune, 'Tis very apt, Sir.
_Mem._ Women, let my Fortune And me alone I wish ye, pray come this way, And stand you still there Lady.
_Cal._ Leave the words Sir, and leap into the meaning.
_Mem._ Then again: I tell you I do love ye.
_Cal._ Why?
_Mem._ No questions: pray no more questions.
I do love you, infinitely: why do you smile?
Am I ridiculous?
_Cal._ I am monstrous fearful, no, I joy you love me.
_Mem._ Joy on then, and be proud on't, I do love you, Stand still, do not trouble me you Women.
He loves you Lady at whose feet have kneel'd Princes to beg their freedoms, he whose valour Has overrun whole Kingdoms.
_Cal._ That makes me doubt, Sir, 'Twill overrun me too.
_Mem._ He whose Sword.
_Cle._ Talk not so big, Sir, you will fright the Princess.
_Mem._ Ha.