_Eug_. No, no my Lord, you will have _Clarence_ there. _Mom_. Alas poore Gentleman, I must tell you now, He's extreame sicke, and was so when he writt, Tho he did charge me not to tell you so; And for the World he cannot come abroade. _Eug_. Is this the man that without passion loves? _Mom_. I doe not tell you he is sicke with love; Or if he be, tis wilfull passion. Which he doth choose to suffer for your sake, And cood restraine his sufferance with a thought, Vppon my life, he will not trouble you; And therefore, worthy Neece, faile not to come. _Eug_. I will on that condition. _Mom_. Tis perform'd. For were my friend well, and cood comfort me, I wood not now intreate your company, But one of you I must have, or I die: Oh such a friend is worth a monarchy. [_Exeunt_. (SCENE 2.) _Enter Lord Furnifall, Rudsbie, Goosecappe, Foulweather, Bullaker_. _Fur_. Nay, my gallants, I will tell you more. _All_. Forth, good my Lord. _Fur_. The evening came, and then our waxen starres Sparkled about the heavenly Court of _Fraunce_, When I then young and radiant as the sunne Gave luster to those lamps, and curling thus My golden foretoppe stept into the presence, Where set with other princely Dames I found The Countesse of _Lancalier_, and her neece, Who as I told you cast so fix'd an eye On my behaviours, talking with the King. _All_. True, my good Lord. _Fur_. They rose when I came in, and all the lights Burn'd dim for shame, when I stood up, and shin'd. _Foul_. O most passionate description, sir _Cutt_. _Rud_. True, of a candles end. _Goos_. The passingst description of a candle that ever lived, sir _Cutt_. _Fur_. Yet aym'd I not at them, nor seemed to note What grace they did me, but found courtly cause To talke with an accomplisht gentleman New come from Italy; in quest of newes I spake _Italian_ with him. _Rud_. What so young? _Fur_. _O rarissime volte cadono nel parlar nostro familiare_. _Foul_. Slid, a cood speake it, Knight, at three yeeres old. _Fur_. Nay, gentle Captaine, doe not set me forth; I love it not, in truth I love it not. _Foul_. Slight, my Lord, but truth is truth, you know. _Goos_. I dare ensure your Lordship, Truth is truth, and I have heard in _France_, they speake _French_ as well as their mother tongue, my Lord.