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Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath
Nothing to think on, but ensuing death :
Let it suffice the greatness of your powers,
To have bereft'a prince of all his fortunes ;
And having thrown him from your watry grave,
Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave.

Enter three Fishermen.

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1 Fish. What, ho, Pilch!
2 Fis. Ho! come, and bring away the nets.
i Fifa. What, Patch-breech, I say!
3 Fish. What say you, master ?

1 Fish. Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or I'll fetch thee with a wannion.

3 Fish. 'Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us, even now.

1 Fish. Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us, to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves.

3 Fish. Nay, master, said not I as much, when I saw the porpus, how he bounced and tumbled ? they say, they are half fish, half flesh: a plague on them, they ne'er come, but I look to be wash'd. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

i Fish. Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones : I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale; ’a plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such whales have I heard on a'the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallow'd the whole parish, church, steeple, bells and all. Per. A pretty moral,

3 Fish. But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have been that day in the belfry.

2 Fish. Why, man?

3 Fish. Because he should have swallow'd me too: and when I had been in his belly, I would have kept such a jangling of the bells, that he should never have left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and parish, up again. But if the good king Simonides were of my mind

Per. Simonides? 3 Fish. We would purge the land of these drones that rob the bee of her honey.

Per. How from the finny subject of the sea
These fishers tell the infirmities of men;
And from their watry empire recollect
All that may men approve, or men detect!
Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

2 Fish. Honest! good fellow, what's that ? if it be a day fits

you, scratch it out of the calendar, and no body will look after it.

Per. Nay, see, the sea hath cast upon your coast2 Fish. What a drunken knave was the sea, to cast thee

in our way!

Per. A man whom both the waters and the wind,
In that vast tennis-court, hath made the ball
For them to play upon, entreats you pity him;
He asks of you, that never us’d to beg.

i Fish. No, friend, cannot you beg? here's them in our country of Greece, gets more with begging than we can

do with working.

2 Fis. Can'st thou catch any fishes then? Per. I never practis d it.

2 Fish. Nay, then thou wilt starve sure; for here's nothing to be got now a days, unless thou can'st fish for’t. Per. What I have been, I have forgot to know;

But what I am, want teaches me to think on;
A man shrunk up with cold : my veins are chill,
And have no more of life, than may suffice
To give my tongue that heat, to ask your help;
Which if

you shall refuse, when I am dead, For I am a man, pray fee me buried.

1 Fish. Die quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here; coine, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for fasting-days, and moreo’er puddings and flap-jacks; and thou shalt be wel

come.

draw up

Per. I thank you, sir.

2 Fis. Hark you, my friend, you said you could not beg.

Per. I did but crave.

2 Fis. But crave? Then I'll turn craver too, and so I fhall 'scape whipping.

Per. Why, are all your beggars whipp'd then ?

2 Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your beggars were whipp'd, I would with no better office, than to be beadle. But, malter, I'll go

the net.

[Exeunt two of the Fishermen. Per. How well this honest mirth becomes their labour! 1 Fisk. Hark you, fir! do you know where you are ? Per. Not well.

i Fish. Why I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and qur king, the good Simonides.

Per. The good king' Simonides, do you call him?

i Fish. Ay, fir; and he deserves fo to be call'd, for his peaceable reign, and good government.

Per. He is a happy king, since from his subjects He gains the name of good, by his government. How far is his court distant from this shore ?

1. Fish,

For, by his rusty outside, he appears
To have practis'd more the whipstock, than the lance.

2 Lord. He well may be a stranger, for he comes To an honour'd triumph, strangely furnished.

3 Lord. And on set purpose let his armour rust Until this day, to scour it in the duft.

Sim. Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan
The outward habit by the inward man.
But stay, the knights are coming; we'll withdraw
Into the gallery.

[Exeunt. [Great shouts, and all cry, The mean knight.

SCENE III.

The fame. A Hall of State.- A Banquet prepared. Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Knights, and Attend

ants.
Sim. Knights,
To say you are welcome, were superfluous.
To place upon the volume of your deeds,
As in a title-page, your worth in arms,
Were more than you expect, or more than's fit,
Since every worth in low commends itself.
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast :
You are my guests.
Thai.

But you, my knight and guest;
To whom this wreath of victory I give,
And crown you king of this day's happiness.

Per. 'Tis more by fortune, lady, than my merit.

Sim. Call it by what you will, the day is yours ;
And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing artists, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed;

And

And you're her labour'd scholar. Come, queen o’the

feast, (For, daughter, so you are,) here take your place : Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.

Knights. We are honour'd much by good Simonides.

Sim. Your presence glads our days; honour we love, For who hates honour, hates the gods above.

Marsh. Sir, yond's your place.
*Per.

Some other is more fit.
1 Knight. Contend not, fir ; for we are gentlemen,
That neither in our hearts, nor outward eyes,
Envy the great, nor do the low despise.

Per. You are right courteous knights.
Sim.

Sit, fit, fir; lit. Per. By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts, These cates resist me, me not thought upon.

Thai. By Juno, that is queen
Of marriage, all the viands that I eat
Do seem unfavoury, wishing him my meat?
Sure he's a gallant gentleman.
Sim.

He's but
A country gentleman :
He has done no more than other knights have done;
Broken a staff, or so ; so let it pass.

Thai. To me he seems like diamond to glass.

Per. Yon king's to me, like to my father's picture,
Which tells me, in that glory once he was ;
Had princes sit, like stars, about his throne,
And he the sun, for them to reverence.
None that beheld him, but like lesser lights,
Did vail their crowns to his supremacy;
Where now his son's a glow-worn in the night,
The which hath fire in darkness, none in light;
Whereby I see that time's the king of men,

For

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