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apartments, who hoot at him, and push him about as he enters.

1st Mask. Away, thou art a saucy jeering knave, And fain wouldst make a jest of all true love.

Ros. Nay, gentle ladies, do not buffet me; I am a right true servant of the fair; And as this woeful chaplet on my brow, And these tear-blotted sonnets would denote, A poor abandon'd lover out of place; With any mistress ready to engage, Who will enlist me in her loving service. Of a convenient kind my talents are, And to all various humours may be shap'd.

2d Mask. What canst thou do?

3d Mask.Ay, what besides offending?

Ros. O! I can sigh so deeply, look so sad; Pale out a piteous tale on bended knee; Groan like a ghost, so very wretched be, As would delight a tender lady's heart But to behold.

1st Mask.Poo, poo, insipid fool!

Ros. But should my lady brisker mettle own, And tire of all those gentle dear delights, Such pretty little quarrels I'd invent— As whether such a fair-one (some dear friend!) Whose squirrel's tail was pinch'd, or the soft maid, With fav'rite lap-dog of a surfeit sick, Have greatest cause of delicate distress: Or whether—

1st Mask.Go, thou art too bad indeed! (aside.) How could he know I quarrell'd with the Count?