Aur. Now god-a-mercy fortune, and sweet Venus.

Let Cupid do his part, and all is well. Phan. Methinks, my heart's in heaven with this comfort.

Chamont. Is this the true Italian courtesy? Ferneze, were you tortur'd thus in France? By my soul's safety

Count. My most noble lord, I do beseech your lordship.

Cha. Honour'd count,

Wrong not your age with flexure of a knee,
I do impute it to those cares and griefs
That did torment you in your absent son.

Count. Oworthy gentlemen, I am asham'd That my extreme affection to my son Should give my honour so uncur'd a maim; But my first son being in Vicenza lost. Cha. How in Vicenza! lost you a son there?

About what time, my lord?

Count. O the same night Wherein your noble father took the town. Cha. How long's that since, my lord? can you remember?

Count. 'Tis now well nigh upon the twen

tieth year.

Cha. And how old was he then? Cha. I cannot tell;

[it.

Between the years of three and four, I take Cha. Had he no special note in his attire,

Or otherwise, that you can call to mind?

Count. I cannot well remember his attire;
But I have often heard his mother say,
He had about his neck a tablet,
Given to him by the emperor Sigismund,
His godfather, with this inscription,
Under the figure of a silver globe,
In minimo mundus.

Cha. How did you call your son, my lord?
Count. Camillo, lord Chamont.

Cha. Then no more my Gasper, but Ca-
millo,

Take notice of your father. Gentlemen,
Stand not amaz'd; here is a tablet,
With that inscription, found about his neck,
That night, and in Vicenza, by my father,

(Who being ignorant what name he had
Christen'd him Gasper ;) nor did I reveal
This secret, till this hour, to any man.
Count. O happy revelation! O blest hour!
O my Camillo !

Phan. O strange! my brother!
Fran. Maximilian,

Behold how the abundance of his joy
Drowns him in tears of gladness.
Count. O my boy,

Forgive thy father's late austerity.

Max. My lord, I delivered as much be fore, but your honour would not be persuaded; I will hereafter give more observance to my visions; I dreamt of this.

Jaq. I can be still no longer, my good

lord;

[joys. Do a poor man some grace amongst all your Count. Why what's the matter, Jaques ? Jaq. I am robb'd;

I am undone, my lord; robb'd and undone.
A heap of thirty thousand golden crowns
Stolen from me in one minute, and I fear
By her confederacy that calls me father;
But she is none of mine, therefore, sweet lord,
Let her be tortur'd to confess the truth.
Max. More wonders yet.

Count. How, Jaques! is not Rachel then
thy daughter?

Jaq. No, I disclaim in her; I spit at her : She is a harlot, and her customers, Your son, this gallant, and your steward here,

Have all been partners with her in my spoil; No less than thirty thousand.

Count. Jaques, Jaques,

This is impossible; how shouldst thou come
To the possession of so huge a heap,
Being always a known beggar?

Jaq. Out, alas !

I have betray'd myself with my own tongue; The case is alter'd.

Count. Some one stay him here.

Max. What means he to depart? count Ferneze, upon my soul this beggar, this beggar is a counterfeit.

Urge him: didst thou lose gold?

Jeq. O no, I lost no gold.

Max. Said I not true?

Count. How! didst thou first lose thirty

thousand crowns,

crowns.

Count. Mass, who was it told me, that a couple of my men were become gallants of late?

Fran. Marry, 'twas I, my lord; my man told me.

Enter Onion and Juniper.

Max. How now! what pageant is this ?
Junip. Come, signior Onion, let's not be
asham'd to appear;
Keep state, look not ambiguous now.
Oni. Not I, while I am in this suit.
Junip. Lordlings, equivalence to you all.
Oni. We thought good to be so good as
see you, gentlemen.

Max. What, monsieur Onion!
Oni. How dost thou, good captain?
Count. What, are my hinds turn'd gentle-

men?

Oni. Hinds, sir! 'sblood, and that word will bear an action; it shall cost us a thousand pound a piece, but we'll be reveng'd.

Junip. Wilt thou sell thy lordship, count?
Count. What, peasants purchase lordships?
Junip. Is that any novels, sir?

Max. O transmutation of elements! it is certified you had pages.

Junip. I, sir; but it is known they proved ridiculous; they did pilfer, they did purloin, they did procrastinate our purses; for the which wasting of our stock, we have put them to the stocks.

Count. And thither shall you two presently.

These be the villains that stole Jaques' gold; Away with them, and set them with their

men.

Max. Onion, you will now be peel'd.

Fran. The case is alter'd now.
Oni. Good my lord, good my lord.
Junip. Away, scoundrel; dost thou fear
a little elocution?

Shall we be be confiscate now? shall we droop now?

Shall we be now in helogabolus?

Oni. Peace, peace, leave thy gabling. Count. Away, away with them; what's this they prate?

[Exeunt with Juniper and Onion. Keep the knaves sure; strict inquisition Shall presently be made for Jaques' gold, To be dispos'd at pleasure of Chamont. Cha. She is your own, lord Paulo, if your father

Give his consent.

Ang. How now, Christophero! the case
is alter'd.
[tent, sir.
Cha. With you as well as me; I am con-
Count. With all my heart; and in ex-
change of her,

(If with you fair acceptance it may stand) I tender my Aurelia to your love.

Cha. I take her from your lordship with all thanks,

And bless the hour wherein I was made prisoner,

For the fruition of this present fortune,
So full of happy and unlook'd-for joys.
Melun, I pardon thee; and for the treasure
Recover it, and hold it as thine own:
It is enough for me to see my sister
Live in the circle of Ferneze's arms,
My friend, the son of such a noble father;
And my unworthy self wrapt above all
By being the lord of so divine a dame.

Max. Well, I will now swear the case is altered. Lady, fare you well; I will subdue my affections. Madam, as for you, you are a profest virgin, and I will be silent. My honourable lord Ferneze, it shall become you at this time not to be frugal, but bounteous, and open-handed; your fortune hath been so to you, lord Chamont.

You are now no stranger; you must be welcome; you have a fair, amiable, and splendid lady: but signior Paulo, signior Camillo, I know you valiant, be loving. Lady, I must be better known to you. Signiors, for you, I pass you not, though I let you pass; for in truth I pass not of you. Lovers to your nuptials, lordlings to your dances; march fair all, for a fair march is worth a king's ransome.

[Exeunt.