_Bayes._ Nay, nay, come, come, Mr. Johnson, i'faith this must not be said amongst us that have it. I know you have wit, by the judgment you make of this play; for that's the measure we go by: my play is my touchstone. When a man tells me such a one is a person of parts: is he so? say I; what do I do, but bring him presently to see this play: if he likes it, I know what to think of him; if not, your most humble servant, sir; I'll no more of him, upon my word, I thank you. I am _Clara voyant_, egad. Now here we go on to our business. SCENE II. _Enter the two_ USURPERS,[25] _hand in hand_. _Ush._ But what's become of Volscius the Great; His presence has not grac'd our court of late. _Phys._ I fear some ill, from emulation sprung, Has from us that illustrious hero wrung. _Bayes._ Is not that majestical? _Smith._ Yes, but who the devil is that Volscius? _Bayes._ Why, that's a prince I make in love with Parthenope. _Smith._ I thank you, sir. _Enter_ CORDELIO. _Cor._ My lieges, news from Volscius the prince. _Ush._ His news is welcome, whatsoe'er it be.[26] _Smith._ How, sir, do you mean whether it be good or bad? _Bayes._ Nay, pray, sir, have a little patience: gadzookers, you'll spoil all my play. Why, sir, 'tis impossible to answer every impertinent question you ask. _Smith._ Cry you mercy, sir. _Cor._ His highness, sirs, commanded me to tell you, That the fair person whom you both do know, Despairing of forgiveness for her fault, In a deep sorrow, twice she did attempt Upon her precious life; but, by the care Of standers-by, prevented was. _Smith._ Why, what stuff's here? _Cor._ At last, Volscius the Great this dire resolve embrac'd: His servants he into the country sent, And he himself to Piccadilly went; Where he's inform'd by letters that she's dead. _Ush._ Dead! is that possible? dead! _Phys._ O ye gods! [_Exeunt._ _Bayes._ There's a smart expression of a passion: O ye gods! that's one of my bold strokes, egad. _Smith._ Yes; but who's the fair person that's dead? _Bayes._ That you shall know anon, sir. _Smith._ Nay, if we know at all, 'tis well enough. _Bayes._ Perhaps you may find, too, by-and-by, for all this, that she's not dead neither. _Smith._ Marry, that's good news indeed. I am glad of that with all my heart. _Bayes._ Now here's the man brought in that is supposed to have kill'd her. [_A great shout within._ SCENE III. _Enter_ AMARYLLIS, _with a book in her hand, and attendants._ _Ama._ What shout triumphant's that? _Enter a_ SOLDIER. _Sold._ Shy maid, upon the river brink, near Twic'nam town, the false assassinate is ta'en. _Ama._ Thanks to the powers above for this deliverance. I hope, Its slow beginning will portend A forward exit to all future end.