'Decio. Now you shall tell me, who play'd at Cards with you?

Pyramena. None but my Lord Iberio and I plai'd. Dec. Who waited?

Py. No body.

Dec. No Page?

Py. No Page.

Dec. No Groom?

Py. No Groom; I tell you no body.

Dec. What, not your Woman ?

Py. Not my Woman, lack

Sir R. STAPYLTON. The Slighted Maid. Act iii. pp. 46—7.

Ed. 1663.

I hope its flow beginning will portend
A forward Exit to all future end.

BAYES. Pish, there you are out; to all future end? No, no; to all future end; you must lay the accent upon end, or else you lose the conceipt.

JOHNS. Indeed the alteration of that accent does a great deal, Mr. Bayes.

BAYES. O, all in all, Sir: they are these little things that mar, or fet you off a Play.

SMI. I fee you are perfect in these matters.

BAYES. I, Sir; I have been long enough at it to know fomething.

Enter Souldiers dragging in an old Fisherman.

Ama. Villain, what Monster did corrupt thy mind T'attaque the noblest soul of humane kind? Tell me who fet thee on.

Fish. Prince Pretty-man.

Ama. To kill whom?

Fish. Prince Pretty-man.

Ama. What, did Prince Pretty-man hire you to kill Prince Pretty-man?

Fish. No; Prince Volfcius.

Ama. To kill whom?

Fish. Prince Volfcius.

Ama. What, did Prince Volfcius hire you to kill

Prince Volfcius?

Fish. No; Prince Pretty-man.

Ama. So, drag him hence.

Till torture of the Rack produce his fence.

[Exeunt. BAYES. Mark how I make the horror of his guilt confound his intellects; for that's the defign of this Scene.

SMI. I see, Sir, you have a several design for every Scene.

BAYES. I; that's my way of writing: and so I can dispatch you, Sir, a whole Play, before another man, I gad, can make an end of his Plot. So, now enter

Prince Pretty-man in a rage.

Where the Devil is he? Why Pretty-man? why when, I fay? O fie, fie, fie, fie; all's marr'd, I vow to gad, quite marr'd.

Enter Pretty-man.

Phoo, pox! you are come too late, Sir: now you may go out again, if you please. I vow to gad Mr.

-I would not give a button for my Play, now you have done this.

Pret. What, Sir?

BAYES. What, Sir? 'Slife, Sir, you should have come out in choler, rous upon the Stage, just as the other went off. Must a man be eternally telling you of these things? JOHNS. Sure this must be some very notable matter that he's fo angry at.

SMI. I am not of your opinion.

BAYES. Pish! come, let's hear your Part, Sir.

Pret. Bring in my Father, why d'ye keep him from me?
Although a Fisherman, he is my Father,
Was ever Son, yet, brought to this distress,
To be, for being a Son, made fatherless?
Oh, you just Gods, rob me not of a Father.
The being of a Son take from me rather. [Exit.
SMI. Well, Ned, what think you now?

JOHNS. A Devil, this is worst of all. Pray, Mr. Bayes, what's the meaning of this Scene?

BAYES. O, cry you mercie, Sir: I purteft I had forgot to tell you. Why, Sir, you must know, that, long before the beginning of this Play, this Prince was taken by a Fisherman.

SMI. How, Sir, taken Prisoner?

BAYES. Taken Prisoner! O Lord, what a queftion's there! did ever any man ask fuch a question? Taken Prisoner! Godfookers, he has put the Plot quite out of my head, with this damn'd question. What was I going to say?

JOHNS. Nay, the Lord knows: I cannot imagine. BAYES. Stay, let me fee; taken: O 'tis true. Why, Sir, as I was going to fay, his Highness here, the