Bartholmew fayre : a comedie, acted in the yeare, 1614 by the Lady Elizabeths seruants, and then dedicated to King Iames, of most blessed memorie ; The diuell is an asse : a comedie acted in the yeare, 1616, by His Maiesties seruants ; The staple of newes : a comedie acted in the yeare, 1625, by His Maiesties seruants by the author, Beniamin Iohnson.

ACT. IJ. SCENE. VI.

VVITTIPOL. MANLY. Mistresse FITZ∣DOTTREL. PVG.

THis was a fortune, happy aboue thought, That this should proue thy chamber; which I fear'd Would be my greatest trouble! this must be The very window, and that the roome.

MAN.

It is. I now remember, I haue often seene there A woman, but I neuer mark'd her much.

WIT.

Where was your soule, friend?

MAN.

Faith, but now, and then, Awake vnto those obiects.

WIT.

You pretend so. Let mee not liue, if I am not in loue More with her wit, for this direction, now, Then with her forme, though I ha' prais'd that prettily, Since I saw her, and you, to day. Read those.

Hee giues him a paper, wherein is the copy of a Song.

They'll goe vnto the ayre you loue so well. Try 'hem vnto the note, may be the musique Will call her sooner; light, shee's here! Sing quickly.

M^rs. FIT.

Either he vnderstood him not: or else, The fellow was not faithfull in deliuery, Of what I bad. And, I am iustly pay'd, That might haue made my profit of his seruice, But, by mis-taking, haue drawne on his enuy, And done the worse defeate vpon my selfe.

Manly sings, Pug enters perceiues it.

How! Musique? then he may be there: and is sure.

PVG.

O! Is it so? Is there the enter-view? Haue I drawne to you, at last, my cunning Lady? The Diuell is an Asse! fool'd of••! and beaten! Nay, made an instrument! and could not sent it! Well, since yo' haue showne the malice of a woman, No lesse then her true wit, and learning, Mistresse, I'll try, if little Pug haue the malignity To recompence it, and so saue his danger. 'Tis not the paine, but the discredite of it, The Diuell should not keepe a body intire.

WIT.

Away, fall backe, she comes.

MAN.

I'll leaue you, Sir, The Master of my chamber. I haue businesse

WIT.

M^rs!

M^rs. FI.

You make me paint, S^r.

WIT.

The'are faire colours, Lady, and naturall! I did receiue

Some commands from you, lately, gentle Lady,

This Scene is acted at two windo's, as out of two contiguous buildings,

But so perplex'd, and wrap'd in the deliuery, As I may feare t'haue mis-interpreted: But must make suit still, to be neere your grace.

M^rs. FI.

Who is there with you, S^r?

WIT.

None, but my selfe. It falls out, Lady, to be a deare friends lodging. Wherein there's some conspiracy of fortune With your poore seruants blest affections.

M^rs. FI.

Who was it sung?

WIT.

He, Lady, but hee's gone, Vpon my entreaty of him, seeing you Approach the window. Neither need you doubt him, If he were here. He is too much a gentleman.

M^rs. FI.

Sir, if you iudge me by this simple action, And by the outward habite, and complexion Of easinesse, it hath, to your designe; You may with Iustice, say, I am a woman: And a strange woman But when you shall please, To bring but that concurrence of my fortune, To memory, which to day your selfe did vrge: It may beget some fauour like excuse, Though none like reason.

WIT.

No, my tune-full Mistresse? Then, surely, Loue hath none; nor Beauty any; Nor Nature-violenced, in both these: With all whose gentle tongues you speake, at once. I thought I had inough remou'd, already, That scruple from your brest, and left yo' all reason; When, through my mornings perspectiue I shewd you A man so aboue excuse, as he is the cause, Why any thing is to be done vpon him: And nothing call'd an iniury, mis-plac'd. I'rather, now had hope, to shew you how Loue By his accesses, growes more naturall: And, what was done, this morning, with such force Was but deuis'd to serue the present, then. That since Loue hath the honour to approach These sister-swelling brests; and touch this soft, * 1.1 And rosie hand; hee hath the skill to draw Their Nectar forth, with kissing; and could make More wanton salts, from this braue promontory, Downe to this valley, then the nimble Roe;

playes with her paps, kis∣seth her hands, &c.

Could play the hopping Sparrow, 'bout these nets; And sporting Squirell in these crisped groues; Bury himselfe in euery Silke-wormes kell, Is here vnrauell'd; runne into the snare, Which euery hayre is, cast into a curle, To catch a Cupid flying: Bath himselfe In milke, and roses, here, and dry him, there;

Warme his cold hands, to play with this smooth, ••ound, And well torn'd chin, as with the Billyard ball; Rowle on these lips, the banks of loue, and there At once both plant, and gather kisses. Lady, Shall I, with what I haue made to day here, call All sense to wonder, and all faith to signe The mysteries reuealed in your forme? And will Loue pardon mee the blasphemy I vtter'd, when I said, a glasse could speake This beauty, or that fooles had power to iudge it?

Doe but looke, on her eyes! They doe light— All that Loue's world comprizeth! Doe but looke on her hayre! it is bright, As Loue's starre, when it riseth! Doe but marke, her fore head's smoother, Then words that sooth her! And from her arched browes, such a grace Sheds it selfe through the face; As alone, there triumphs to the life, All the gaine, all the good, of the elements strife!

Haue you seene but a bright Lilly grow, Before rude hands haue touch'd it? Haue you mark'd but the fall of the Snow, Before the soyle hath smuch'd it? Haue you felt the wooll o'the Beuer? Or Swans downe, euer? Or, haue smelt o' the bud o'the Bryer? Or the Nard i' the fire? Or, haue tasted the bag o'the Bee? O, so white! O, so soft! O, so sweet is shee!

Notes

• * 1.1

  He growes more fami∣liar in his Court-ship.