_Feli._ Castilio, Alberto, Balurdo! none up? Forobosco! Flattery, nor thou up yet? Then there's no courtier stirring: that's firm truth? I cannot sleep: Feliche seldom rests In these court lodgings. I have walk'd all night, To see if the nocturnal court delights Could force me envy their felicity: And by plain troth, I will confess plain troth, I envy nothing but the travense[112] light. O, had it eyes, and ears, and tongues, it might 10 See sport, hear speech of most strange surquedries.[113] O, if that candle-light were made a poet, He would prove a rare firking satirist, And draw the core forth of imposthum'd sin. Well, I thank heaven yet, that my content Can envy nothing, but poor candle-light. As for the other glistering copper spangs, That glisten in the tire of the court, Praise God, I either hate, or pity them. Well, here I'll sleep till that the scene of up 20 Is pass'd at court. O calm hush'd rich Content, Is there a being blessedness without thee? How soft thou down'st the couch where thou dost rest, Nectar to life, thou sweet Ambrosian feast! _Enter_ CASTILIO _and his Page_ CATZO: CASTILIO _with a casting-bottle_[114] _of sweet water in his hand, sprinkling himself_. _Cast._ Am not I a most sweet youth now? _Cat._ Yes, when your throat's perfum'd; your very words Do smell of ambergris. O stay, sir, stay; Sprinkle some sweet water to your shoe's heels, That your mistress may swear you have a sweet foot. _Cast._ Good, very good, very passing[115] passing good. 30 _Feli._ Fut, what treble minikin[116] squeaks there, ha? "good, very good, very very good!" _Cast._ I will warble to the delicious conclave of my mistress' ear: and strike her thoughts with the pleasing touch of my voice. [_A song._ _Cast._ Feliche, health, fortune, mirth, and wine. _Feli._ To thee, my love divine. _Cast._ I drink to thee, sweeting. _Feli._ [_Aside._] Plague on thee for an ass! _Cast._ Now thou hast seen the court, by the perfection of it, dost not envy it? 41