The fountaine of selfe-loue. Or Cynthias reuels As it hath beene sundry times priuately acted in the Black-Friers by the Children of her Maiesties Chappell. Written by Ben: Iohnson.
Jonson, Ben, 1573?-1637.

SCENA. 1.

Amorphus. Asotus.
Amor.

Sir, let not this discountenance, or dis-gallant you a whit, you must not sinke vnder the first disaster; It is with your young Grammattical Courtier, as with your Neophyte-Player, a thing vsuall to be daunted at the first presence, or enter-view: you saw, there was Hedon & Anaides, (far more practisd gallants then your selfe) who were both out, to comfort you: It is no disgrace, no more, then for your aduenturous Reueller to fall by some in-auspicious chance in his Galliard, or or some sub∣till Politician to vndertake the Bastinado, that the State might thinke worthely of him, and respect him as a man well beaten to the world. What? hath your Tayler prouided the property (we spake of) at your Chamber, or no?

Aso.

I thinke he has.

Amor.

Nay▪ (I intreate you) be not so flat, and melancholique, erect your minde: you shall redeeme this with the Courtship I will teach you against afternoone: Where eate you to day?

Asot.

Where you please Sir, any where I.

Amor.

Come let vs go and taste some light dinner, A dish of she'd Caueare, or so, and after you shall practise an hower at your lodging, some fewe formes that I haue remembred; If you had but (so frre) gathered your spirits to you, as to haue taken vp a Rushe (when you were out) and wagd it, thus; or clensde your teeh with it, or but turn'de aside, and fa••de some businesse to whisper with your Page, till you had Page  [unnumbered] recouer'd your selfe, or but found some slight staine in your stocking, or any other pretty Inuention (so it had beene sud∣daine,) you might haue come off with a most cleare and Courtly grace.

Asot.

A poyson of all, I thinke I was forespoake, I.

Amor.

No, I do partly ayme at the cause (which was ome∣nous indeed) for as you enter at the doore, there is oppos'de to you the frame of a Wolfe in the Hangings, which (your eye taking sodainely) gaue a false Alarme to the heart; and that was it call'd your blood out of your face, and so disordred the whole ranke of your spirits: I beseech you labour to forget it.

Exeunt.