[474] "This fantastical cohibition against the freedom of Nature in this part, makes me reflect upon as inconvenient a restraint (deserving but a collateral insertion) imposed upon the reverse of this and the benefit we receive from the egestions of Port Esquiline. For the Guineans are very careful [_ne pardant_], and wondered much at the Netherlanders' rusticity and impudence.... _The Irish are much of the same opinion in this point of unnatural restraint_, whereas the Romans, by an edict of Claudius the Emperor, most consonant to the law of Nature, at all times and in all places, upon a just necessity, freely challenged the benefit of Nature."--Bulwer's _Artificial Changeling_, ed. 1650, p. 220. [475] Seneca, _Epist._ xliv. [476] Old eds. "so." SCENE II. _A forest near the sea._ _Enter_ PIETRO, FERRARDO, PREPASSO, _and_ Three Pages. _Fer._ The dogs are at a fault. [_Cornets like horns within._ _Pietro._ Would God nothing but the dogs were at it! Let the deer pursue safety,[477] the dogs follow the game, and do you follow the dogs: as for me, 'tis unfit one beast should hunt another; I ha' one chaseth me: an't[478] please you, I would be rid of ye a little. _Fer._ Would your grief would, as[479] soon as we, leave you to quietness! _Pietro._ I thank you. [_Exeunt_ FERRARDO _and_ PREPASSO. Boy, what dost thou dream of now? 10 _First Page._ Of a dry summer, my lord; for here's a hot world towards: but, my lord, I had a strange dream last night. _Pietro._ What strange dream? _First Page._ Why, methought I pleased you with singing, and then I dreamt that you gave me that short sword. _Pietro._ Prettily begged: hold thee, I'll prove thy dream true; take't. [_Giving sword._ _First Page._ My duty: but still I dreamt on, my lord; and methought, an't[478] shall please your excellency, you would needs out of your royal bounty give me that jewel in your hat. 23 _Pietro._ O, thou didst but dream, boy; do not believe it: dreams prove not always true; they may hold in a short sword, but not in a jewel. But now, sir, you dreamt you had pleased me with singing; make that true, as I ha' made the other. _First Page._ Faith, my lord, I did but dream, and dreams, you say, prove not always true; they may hold in a good sword, but not in a good song: the truth is, I ha' lost my voice. 32 _Pietro._ Lost thy voice! how? _First Page._ With dreaming, faith: but here's a couple of sirenical rascals shall enchant ye: what shall they sing, my good lord?