Scæna Secunda.
Enter Shamont.
Sham. This is a beautiful life now; privacy
The sweetness and the benefit of Essence:
I see there is no man, but may make his Paradice;
And it is nothing but his love, and dotage
Upon the worlds foul joyes, that keeps him out on't:
For he that lives retir'd in mind, and spirit,
Is still in Paradice, and has his innocence,
Partly allow'd for his companion too,
As much as stands with justice: here no eyes
Shoot their sharp pointed scorns upon my shame;
They know no terms of reputation here,
No punctual limits, or precise dimensions:
Plain down-right honesty is all the beauty
And elegancy of life, found amongst Shepheards;
For knowing nothing nicely, or desiring it,
Quits many a vexation from the mind,
With which our quainter knowledge does abuse us;
The name of envy is a stranger here,
That dries mens blouds abroad, robs Health and Rest,
Why here's no such fury thought on: no, nor falshood,
That brotherly disease, fellow-like devil,
That plays within our bosom, and betrays us.
Enter 1 Gent.
1 Gent. Oh are you here?
Sham. La Nove, 'tis strange to see thee.
1 Gent. I ha' rid one horse to death,
To find you out, Sir.
Sham. I am not to be found of any man
That saw my shame, nor seen long.
1 Gent. Good, your attention:
You ought to be seen now, and found out, Sir,
If ever you desire before your ending
To perform one good office, nay, a dear one,
Mans time can hardly match it.
Sham. Be't as precious
As reputation; if it come from Court
I will not hear on't.