MUCEDORUS.
If thou my welfare tender, then no more;
Let love’s strong magic charm thy trivial phrase,
Wasted as vainly as to gripe the sun.
Augment not then more answers; lock thy lips,
Unless thy wisdom suit me with disguise,
According to my purpose.
ANSELMO.
That action craves no counsel,
Since what you rightly are will more command,
Than best usurped shape.
MUCEDORUS.
Thou still art opposite in disposition;
A more obscure servile habiliment
Beseems this enterprise.
ANSELMO.
Then like a Florentine or mountebank!
MUCEDORUS.
’Tis much too tedious; I dislike thy judgement,
My mind is grafted on an humbler stock.
ANSELMO.
Within my closet there does hang a cassock,
Though base the weed is, ’twas a shepherd’s once,
Which I presented in Lord Julio’s masque.
MUCEDORUS.
That, my Anselmo, and none else but that,
Mask Mucedorus from the vulgar view.
That habit suits my mind; fetch me that weed.
[Exit Anselmo.]
Better than kings have not disdain’d that state,
And much inferiour, to obtain their mate.
Enter Anselmo with a Shepherd’s coat, which he gives to Mucedorus.