Then straddling goes, says, "Frenchmen fear no bears!" Vows "he will travel to the Siege of Brest!" Swears, "Captains, they do all against the hair!" Protests "Tobacco is a smoke-dried jest!" Takes up his pen for a tobacco pipe, Thus all besmeared, each lip, the other wipe. His breath, he thinks the smoke! his tongue, a coal! Then runs for bottle-ale to quench his thirst; Runs to his ink-pot, drinks! then stops the hole! And thus grows madder than he was at first. TASSO he finds, by that of HAMLET thinks Terms him a madman, then of his inkhorn drinks! Calls players "fools! The Fool, he judgeth wiseth, Will learn them action out of Chaucer's _Pander_, Proves of their poets bawds, even in the highest, Then drinks a health! and swears it is no slander." Puts off his clothes! his shirt he only wears! Much like mad HAMLET, thus, as Passion tears! "Who calls me forth, from my distracted thought? O Cerberus! if thou? I prithee speak! Revenge, if thou? I was thy rival ought! In purple gores, I'll make the ghosts to reek! VITULLIA! O VITULLIA, be thou still! I'll have revenge, or harrow up my will! "I'll fallow up the wrinkles of the earth! Go down to hell, and knock at PLUTO'S gate! I'll turn the hills to valleys! make a dearth Of virtuous honour to eternal Fate! I'll beat the winds, and make the tides keep back! Reign in the sea, that lovers have no wrack! "Yes, tell the Earth, 'It is a murderer! Hath slain VITULLIA!' O VITULLIA'S dead! I'll count blind CUPID for a conjurer, And with wild horses will I rend his head! I, with a pickaxe, will pluck out his brains! Laugh at this boy! ease lovers of much pains! "O then, I'll fly! I'll swim! yet stay, and then I'll ride the moon, and make the clouds my horse! Make me a ladder of the heads of men, Climb up to heaven! Yes, my tongue will force To gods and angels! O, I'll never end, Till for VITULLIA, all my cries I spend! "Then I, like a Spirit of pure Innocence, I'll be all white! and yet behold I'll cry 'Revenge!' O lovers! this my sufference; Or else for love, for love, a soul must die! EURIALÆ! URANIA! ARTESIA! so!--" Heart rent in sunder, with these words of woe. "But soft, here comes! Who comes? and not calls out Of rape and murder, love and villainy? Stay, wretched man! Who runs? doth never doubt It is thy soul! thy Saint! thy deity! Then call the birds to ring a mourning Knell, For mad DAIPHANTUS, who doth love so well! "O sing a song, parted in parcels three, I'll bear the burden still of all your grief; Who is all Woe, can tune his misery To discontents; but not to his relief. O kiss her! kiss her! And yet do not do so! They bring some joy, but with short joys, long woe!