SCENE I.--_A Room in_ CATAPLASMA'S _House.

_Enter_ CATAPLASMA _and_ SOQUETTE _with needlework._

_Cata._ Come, Soquette, your work! let's examine your work. What's here? a medlar with a plum tree growing hard by it; the leaves o' the plum tree falling off; the gum issuing out o' the perished joints; and the branches some of 'em dead, and some rotten; and yet but a young plum tree. In good sooth very pretty.

_Soqu._ The plum tree, forsooth, grows so near the medlar that the medlar sucks and draws all the sap from it and the natural strength o' the ground, so that it cannot prosper.

_Cata._ How conceited you are![164] But here th'ast made a tree to bear no fruit. Why's that?

_Soqu._ There grows a savin tree next it, forsooth.[165]

_Cata._ Forsooth you are a little too witty in that.

_Enter_ SEBASTIAN.

_Sebas._ But this honeysuckle winds about this white thorn very prettily and lovingly, sweet Mistress Cataplasma.

_Cata._ Monsieur Sebastian! in good sooth very uprightly welcome this evening.

_Sebas._ What, moralizing upon this gentlewoman's needlework? Let's see.

_Cata._ No, sir. Only examining whether it be done to the true nature and life o' the thing.

_Sebas._ Here y' have set a medlar with a bachelor's button o' one side and a snail o' the tother. The bachelor's button should have held his head up more pertly towards the medlar: the snail o' the tother side should ha' been wrought with an artificial laziness, doubling his tail and putting out his horn but half the length. And then the medlar falling (as it were) from the lazy snail and ending towards the pert bachelor's button, their branches spreading and winding one within another as if they did embrace. But here's a moral. A poppring[166] pear tree growing upon the bank of a river seeming continually to look downwards into the water as if it were enamoured of it, and ever as the fruit ripens lets it fall for love (as it were) into her lap. Which the wanton stream, like a strumpet, no sooner receives but she carries it away and bestows it upon some other creature she maintains, still seeming to play and dally under the poppring so long that it has almost washed away the earth from the root, and now the poor tree stands as if it were ready to fall and perish by that whereon it spent all the substance it had.

_Cata._ Moral for you that love those wanton running waters.

_Sebas._ But is not my Lady Levidulcia come yet?

_Cata._ Her purpose promised us her company ere this. Sirrah, your lute and your book.

_Sebas._ Well said. A lesson o' the lute, to entertain the time with till she comes.

_Cata. Sol, fa, mi, la.--Mi, mi, mi._--Precious! Dost not see _mi_ between the two crotchets? Strike me full there.--So--forward. This is a sweet strain, and thou finger'st it beastly. _Mi_ is a _laerg_[167] there, and the prick that stands before _mi_ a long; always halve your note.--Now--Run your division pleasingly with these quavers. Observe all your graces i' the touch.--Here's a sweet close--strike it full; it sets off your music delicately.

_Enter_ LANGUEBEAU SNUFFE _and_ LEVIDULCIA.

_Lang._ Purity be in this house.

_Cata._ 'Tis now entered; and welcome with your good ladyship.

_Sebas._ Cease that music. Here's a sweeter instrument.

_Lev._ Restrain your liberty. See you not Snuffe?

_Sebas._ What does the stinkard here? put Snuffe out. He's offensive.

_Lev._ No. The credit of his company defends my being abroad from the eye of suspicion.

_Cata._ Wilt please your ladyship go up into the closet? There are those falls and tires[168] I told you of.

_Lev._ Monsieur Snuffe, I shall request your patience. My stay will not be long. [_Exit with_ SEBASTIAN.

_Lang._ My duty, madam.--Falls and tires! I begin to suspect what falls and tires you mean. My lady and Sebastian the fall and the tire, and I the shadow. I perceive the purity of my conversation is used but for a property to cover the uncleanness of their purposes. The very contemplation o' the thing makes the spirit of the flesh begin to wriggle in my blood. And here my desire has met with an object already. This gentlewoman, methinks, should be swayed with the motion, living in a house where moving example is so common.--Mistress Cataplasma, my lady, it seems, has some business that requires her stay. The fairness o' the evening invites me into the air. Will it please you give this gentlewoman leave to leave her work and walk a turn or two with me for honest recreation?

_Cata._ With all my heart, sir. Go, Soquette: give ear to his instructions. You may get understanding by his company, I can tell you.

_Lang._ In the way of holiness, Mistress Cataplasma.

_Cata._ Good Monsieur Snuffe!--I will attend your return.

_Lang._ Your hand, gentlewoman.--[_To_ SOQUETTE.] The flesh is humble till the spirit move it. But when 'tis raised it will command above it. [_Exeunt._