Marciano, or, The discovery a tragi-comedy, acted with great applause before His Majesties High Commissioner, and others of the nobility, at the Abby of Holyrud-house, on St. Johns night, by a company of gentlemen.

Actus Secundus. Scaena Prima.

Enter Marciano, a boy with him as in an Inn.

—THis Inn is good—now late—I might have here Convenient lodging, if I durst but stay— —Sirrah, go see my horses—

Exit Boy.

A chair set out.

Good gods! is't come to this?—must we behold Rebellion in it•• full Epitasis? No antidote to save th'empoysoned State?— —Those forces, I had rallyed, now undone, Routed, quite routed—what shall I resolve— I've overcome a tedious voyage—O! If I could now have but one half hours rest, That with good news from my Prince would refresh Both body and soul—But yet how can my eyes Receive their lawfull tribute, when my heart Is tos'd 'twixt hope and love?—hope bids me live To see a blessed Catastrophe yet to all Our present tumults—love perswades me rather To dye, then see the vertuous Arabella, (Although unkind to me, as yet despising My ardent suit) become a prey to such As know no love, but in their tyranny. O heavenly, divine creature—would thou know

sits down

My present flames—wer't possible those sig••hs My troubled heart sends forth, might be condens'd Into one body:—sure they could inform Those very stones with breath, those stones should move: Those stones should speak; and as they are become The only witnesses of my complaint, So be the true Embassadours of my sorrow;

To show the vertuous Arabella—that— Thus—for—her love—

takes a nap.

Enter boy hastily.

My Lord—the enemy—the enemy—Fly—Fly—Fly.

Exit boy running.

Marciano bolts out of his chair.

Fly! Fly! avaunt with that base cowardly gibbrish; That Algebra of honour; which had never Been nam'd, if all had equal courage—what? I fly! Poor rogue, had as good bid me dye.

draws

I'le force my way, or make a noble end, Valour does sometimes humane wit transcend.

Enter Souldiers, swords drawn, &c.

1. Soul.

This way—'tis he—take quarter.

Marc.

Quarter!—no slaves—I'le see your entrails first. Thus Dogs—

fight, Sould. falls back, Marciano pursues.

Enter again hastily.

The hounds are now at a bay— —No way t'escape—fortune, if not me, Commiserate at least my Prince—I prize not My life, if I must dye, transform my soul Into some loyal breast,—I dye contented.

Enter Soul, as before.

There again—villains, are you so bold —This Sword shall tame you—

falls back as before, Marciano pursues.

A noyse within. Enter Borasco, Souldiers with them, Marciano prisoner,

Bor.

Sir, your noble courage hath oblidged our care, The tearms of your surrender shall be observed Faithfully—now to horse—

Marc.

I do obey, Sir, for with such as you A word does more▪ then oaths with cowards do.

Exeunt omnes.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Manduco, with Signior Becabunga, knock at the door, &c.

Man.

HO—who is within there?

Boy.

Your servant Gentlemen.

Enter Boy.

Man.

Is the Lady Marionetta within?

Boy.

Yes Sir, Pray what are you, who demands?

Man.

Why, here is Signior Becabunga newly come to town—But heark you, is she occupyed?

Boy.

How Sir.

Man.

Profane Fellow—I mean, is she not busie—that is to say, at leasure?

Boy.

O, yes—please you walk in.

Man.

Yes—yes—heus—ingrediamur.

Exeunt.

Enter again at the other end, chairs set.

Boy.

Please you to walk here a little, while I go can the Ladies

Exit.

Man.

Remember now, when you are in private to propone matrimony with a great deal of ceremony, and for your comple∣ments, you may call her the Lady that triumphs in the Coach-box of your affections, a bewitching Syren, a beautifull Tha••, and so forth, as occasion offers. Praise her hair, her eyes, her ears, her breasts, &c. There is abundance of choice epithetes to be had; you may say her face is like a Print-book of divers characters, that puzles the reader, her nose like the style of a Dyal, her eyes like Stars, her hair like Gold, her teeth like Ivory, her veins like silk, and her breasts like milk, and so forth, as I said before:—you'l remember on this now.

Bec.

Yes, yes, I warrand you, I shall remember—let me see now, her breasts, her shoulders, her toes, her fingers, her nayls and her nose—But hark you, must I say nothing of her cloaths?

Man.

How come you to 〈…〉〈…〉

Bec.

Why? her nose makes me remember on it.

Man.

—So—so—come, fall upon the Ladyes—go—I say.

Enter Chrysolina, Mari∣onetta, Bec. Salutes. &c

Bec.

Ladyes, I am indeed glad to see you now.

Man.

Ladyes, I am your devotionated devotionary.

Mar.

You are welcome to Town Sir.

Bec.

Protest, Ladyes, I am your humble servant.

Man.

Man prom••ts him behind his back

As before, nam ••oelum non ani••••um mutas.

Bec.

As before, nam coelos non animus mutat.

Man.

You are wrong—Say—I did long vehemently to see you —as one in child-bed.

Bec.

I did long vehemently to see you in child-bed.

Man.

A meer brutum animall.••

Bec.

What's the matter, Sir, did not I say very well now.

Man. retires in a rage Becabunga followes him

Man.

No—it was altogether sinistruous, I have effo••iate the treasure of my brain in educating you,—and yet for all that you are a meer ignoramus.

Bec.

O—I will do well enough yet—Pray, tell me what I should say, for the Ladyes are waitting upon me.

Man.

No—I will complement them my self—speak not you —ne vel unum gru.

Ladyes, This gentelman is newly arrived at Florence the desuetude of amorous conversation, with the assnetude of rurall exercises have so, as I may say, confounded his intellectuals, that if he hesi∣tate in the pronunciation, he hopes you will meerly attribute it to his campestriall, trimestriall perigri••ation.

Chrys.

We not only excuse you, Sir, but likewise account our selves honoured by your visit—Pray sit down Sir.

Man.

Yes, yes, without ceremony.

Bec.

Why—I think, you are silent, Madam.

Bec. sits down by M•••• Man sits be∣twixt the Ladyes.

Mar.

I love not to prate Sir.

Bec.

Nor I either.

Man.

Nay so long as he was under 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I did labour to coerce in him that loquacious verbosity, o•• rather ve•• bosious lo∣quacity,

with which most part of the perverse temporary adoles∣cency is contaminate, for I hate garrulity, as I am facundious, I do.

Bec.

I vow, Madam, you are very bony, since I see you last—

Man. takes a pype of tobacco.

O, I have had rare pastime in the couotry this harvest, brave hunting, and hawking of hares; and but the last day comming in to the Town, I tooke a couple of them by the way. O, Madam, you will not beleeve what brave sport wee have now. I wonder why you have stay'd in city all this while?

Mar.

What should we have done in the country, Sir, hunted, and hawked as you doe?

Man.

I hope this does not offend you, Madam. Chrys. Not at all, Sir.

Man.

Smoakes in Chrys. face Smoakes in Mar. face.

I should be loath to offend any man, but I am without ceremony.

Mar.

Use your own liberty, Sir.

Man.

Nay, I do it to draw down reuthm from my brain, with which my lungs are much infested: for, d'you see, 'tis a very salu∣tiferous herbe: it disposes the minde for study, and moves in seve∣rall places; I will show you what by it's help I made last night; marry a sonnet upon a Lady, whose beauty had almost tempted me to affect her.—She walk'd ••sings. N••y; hold, I have a good voice for writing, but not for reading. I will read then.

Sonnet

She walk'd along with such a grace, And such a catching eye. That, had her Masque not hid her face Then—certainly— In some degree, I had become a lover certainly. I had become Both blind, and dumb, For Cupids thundring dart Had peirc'd my heart. It had—by my facunditie.

But I more prudent was then so Assoon as she drew nigh I turn'd my back to her, and lo She glyded by. Immediatly. Then I began to ruminate, and say, Whit is wo—man? Even no—man. Why then should wee love her, Seing we are above her, And she, at best, mans hacqueney?

Man. arises.

—But heark you, Madam▪ I beleeve 'tis now time wee should leave them to their private confaabulation.

Chrys.

Yes Sir, with all my heart.

Man.

One word then with this Gentelman, and I am gone—Heus, be attentious and circumspectious in your be aviour, remem∣ber on those elegantes ••hrases I taught you when you came in: so I will retire, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you for a space.

Exit with Chrys.

Bec.

Now wee 〈…〉〈…〉 Madam, I hope you know my errand.

Mar.

Not well Sir.

Bec.

I am sure, my Father 〈…〉〈…〉 the Lady Saromanca speak to you, or else I am 〈…〉〈…〉

Mar.

But you had 〈…〉〈…〉 my Uncle, Sir; I am at his disposall.

Bec.

You are very modest.

Offers ••o kisse, she refuses.

Mar.

And I hope that is a virtue 〈…〉〈…〉 maid, Sir▪

Bec.

As I am a virgin, it is; I love you ••ll the better for it: and I'le assure you so long as you are modest, you can never be im∣pudent.

Enter Boy,

Madam, Signior Pantal•••••• is below; shall I tell him you are within?

Mar.

Yes, yes, by all 〈◊〉〈◊〉, you must not deny us to such a Gentleman of quality as he is.

Bec.

Signor Pantaloni, say you, my old comrade, I would be very glad to see him.

Mar.

He is in suite of my Sister, a Gentelman of a great estate, I am much for the match; I'le go cause my Sister come hither.

At the other end enter Signior Pantaloni▪ Bec. salutes him.

Bec.

Signior Pantaloni!

Pant.

Signior Becabunga—welcome to Town in good faith.—Yow are very gallant.

Surveyes Bec. cloaths.

Bec.

—It is my winter suite, Sir, it cost my Father a good deal of money, more then the price of ten bolls of wheat, or barley, I warrand you.

Pant.

I am sure, you have had brave sport in the country all this while.

Bec.

O yes; you know my dog Springo?

Pant.

Yes, and Gasto, gray bitcho, brounhoundo, and all the tribe of them: I knew them all since they were puppets, and your self too.

Bec.

Why, I will let him loose with any his match in Tuscany.

Pant.

O what a fool was I, might not I have been with you all this while, if it had not been for this baggagely Mistris of mine, Madam Chrysolina, call you her, whom my Mother will have me to woo whether I will or not, I may say; I had been in the coun∣try all this harvest.—But, what shall I tell you, have not I learn'd since I see you to dance forsooth

frisks about

—that's a coupee—that's a circumflex pas: that's a transverse pas &c.

Bec.

O brave Pantaloni!

Enter Manduco leading the Ladyes.

Pant.

I, but I can fence too—zeest—zeest—zeest

Thrusts at Bec.

Pant.

Ladyes, I hope I have not com'd in into you as I may say intrusiously, or intrusively.

Discover the Ladyes.

Chrys.

Not at all Sir, you are very welcome, pray how does your Lady mother, and your Sisters?

Pant.

All in good health, Madam, at your service—Signior Manduco, you are welcome to Town.

Man.

Signior Pantaloni, I am yours integrally, and quasi exul∣to in the prosperity of this our congression.

Enter Boy.

Madam, the two Gentelmen you call Casio and Leonardo desire ••o see you.

Mar.

Go tell them we are not within.

Chrys.

Tell them we are not at leasure, Sirrah.

Exit Boy.

Man.

What are they?

Pant.

Ranting, young blades, like the times, I warrand you, two fellows, that have frequented all your Stage-playes in Italy, and I heard our Chaplain say; and my Sister too (which is more) that Playes were very unlawfull and impious.—

Man.

Playes are indeed profane, scelerate, abominable, yea, abominably abominable—which I will maintain multis argu∣mentis.

Pant.

Besides, they are great mockers of such Gentlemen as us, who are better then themselves.

Man.

Are they of the Dukes party?

Pant.

Yes, I warrand you.

Man.

Hoc satis est—odi totam gentem: Ladies, you do well not to converse with them—but no more of them: Ladies, what would you think of a perambulation in this calid, aestivous sea∣son?

Chrys.

But whether shall we walk, Sir?

Pant.

Any where, Madam▪ I shall wait upon you.

Bec.

And, I shall stick close to my Lady, forsooth.

Mar.

Wee'l have a coach then.

Bec.

By all means—call a Coach.

within▪ Coach, &c.

Man.

Let us then passe the Pomeridian hours in obambulation: for I am defatigate with session.

Exeunt omnes.

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Borasco with Arabella prisoner.

Ar.

GOod my Lord, for the respect to honour, Prove courteous to a poor distressed Lady, And now your prisoner—

Bor.

My prisoner—Not, by this hand, so much, As I am yours.

kisses her hand.

Ar.

I should belye my passion, Sir, if I, Next to the publike destiny of my Country, Did not resent my own calamity; But yet your undeserved clemency Does moderate my misfortunes—

Bor.

How! undeserved—when even Cannibals, Tam'd by the aspect of your radiant eye, Would quit their barb'rous, superstitious rites, And offer, what their gods usurp, to you.

Ar.

Sir, I owe much, I must confess, to nature, But your applause inflames the bill more high, 'Tis now our common fate to be imprison'd, But not so common to be thus respected.

Bor.

Lady, what the Lord Barbaro hath 〈…〉〈…〉 I hold it alwayes justice—but because Your face does speak you one, whom all should honour, That e're have known what love is, I regrate This your confinement; the causes of which Are only known to his excellency,

Enter Iaylor.

Time will discover all—but here he comes Who must be your guardian—Sirrah—

Jayl.

Your pleasure, my Lord?

Bor.

By order from the Senate, you'r commanded To take this Lady in your custody— See you respect her, Sirrah,—let her not

Be us'd, as other ordinary prisoners. Mark what I say, you varlet—serve her well.

Jayl.

I shall, forsooth, my Lord, she shall be as well us'd as any Lady can be in prison.

Bor.

Madam, I'le visit you sometimes, and see You treated, like an honourable Lady. This Fellow shall have special care of you, Command him at all times; and for my service, Pray spare it not—farewell—she is my prisoner,

aside.

I shall have fit time yet t'impart my flames.

Exit.

Jayl.

Now, forsooth, Madam, will you be pleased to walk—I'le conduct you to as neat, a wel-swipp'd, wel-trimm'd Room, as you can have in many parts of Florence: My Lord Borasco, is a very obliging Gentleman, and I'le assure you, he loves to be courteous; I will have a care of you for his sake; my Wife, and I (I must have you acquaint with her, Madam) for she is one of the loving'st, dutifull, old Sluts, that you have known—

Ar.

Come then, let's go—

Jayl.

—My Wife and I, I say, Madam, shall serve you to a hair, for she loves to be courteous, as well as my self,

Ar.

Where are my Countrymen lodg'd? I rather Be with them, as elsewhere—

Jayl.

A Pisan, Madam?

Ar.

No—a Siennois. There are many 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Nobles in my custody.

Ar.

The Lord Marciano: since 'tis my misfortune To be his Fellow-prisoner.

Jayl.

Madam, you shall see him, for I love to be courteous, especially to strangers, Madam▪

Exeunt

Scaena Quarta.

Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, as in their Chamber.

Mar.

How did you like our last entertainment, Sister?

Chrys.

Indifferently well; I love that same Gen∣tleman, Signior Besabunga: he is none of your ranting young Gallants, but a sober youth as is in all Florence.

Mar.

'Tis true, but yet—

Chrys.

—What—don't you love him, Sister? you are a fool if you let such a fair occasion slip—such a fine Woodcock is not start every day:—he hath a great Estate, Sister, remem∣ber that.

Mar.

'Tis all true—

Chrys.

I, and he will not readily spend it; his Tutor, Man∣duco, hath bred him very sparingly—honest man, I protest he is an honest man:—yea, a very honest man.

Mar.

He is indeed—

Chrys.

And then, Sister, you may have a very contented life with him; he is a good-natur'd, sweet youth, he will give you all your will, and I'l assure you that is a great property in a man.

Mar.

—And what think you of your own Suitor, Pantaloni, all this while?

Chrys.

Why—I know not what I shall say of him yet.

Enter Cassio, Leo∣nardo, quietly.

Mar. discovers them.

Mar.

Goodness! how came they here?

Leon.

Nay, my pretty Daph••e, fly not my embraces, I know we have surprised you now.

Chrys. starts back, amazed.

Cass.

What pretty intrigue of love was the object of your dis∣course, pray let us be sharers with you in your entertainment.

Leon.

My life for't, you were devising some stratagem, how to crosse the designs of some affectionat Votary: you have no pity on our Sex now a dayes, Ladies.

Cass.

None, indeed, if you were not visible in this age, then we should not love: but, when we once conceive flames of affection

for you, in lieu of fomenting us in our delights, you make love a disease to us by your unmercifull nicety, which deprives us al∣together of your conversation: this is sad, Ladies; trust me 'tis sad.

Mar.

You wrong our Sex, Sir.

Chrys.

But, d'you hear, Sir, seriously I intreat you would for∣bear such visits; for, you will but give people occasion to talk of what we never thought on.

Mar.

And besides, Sir, those who challenge power over us will be offended at this entertainment: we intreat you then, Gentlemen, to leave us.

Cass.

to Mar.

Farewell then, cruel beauty, but do not ima∣gine such a harsh repulse will stop the current of my boundless love; absence shall never prove so fatal: but while my breath shall demonstrate that I live, this heart, this speech and this hand shall demonstrate that I love you. Farewell bright star of my fancy.

Exit.

Leon.

to Chrys.

Such a fair Lady cannot be so cruel, I will not take this answer as a repulse, but rather construe it the most favourable way. Farewell, time, I hope, shall melt the severity of your resolutions.

Exit.

Chrys.

Farewell my ranting gamsters, we are not meat for your mouths.—What foolish people have we in our house, Sister, to admit them Gentlemen?—why, they came in upon us while we were serious.

Mar.

Yes, Sister, and if one of us had been commenting on the Piss-pot, it had been all one to them, when doors are left open.

Chrys.

And knowing that our friends cannot endure them, they should, at least, in conscience, have denied them access. O! how I shall baffle them same wenches that did not look to our Chamber door better.

Mar.

I protest, Sister, we must marry quickly, otherwayes we shall be constantly infested with such importunate Suitors; and that, in my opinion, is no great pleasure to a woman, it distracts their spirits, me thinks.

Chrys.

You say right, Sister, wee shall never be well, untill we be even well marryed.

Exeunt.

Scaena Quinta.

Enter Borasco, with Arabella in prison.

Bor.

LAdy, I have at length obtain'd that favour Of the Lord Barbaro, you may go abroad To any part o'th citty that you please. Providing you return hither at night—

Ar.

My Lord, I thank you kindly, I find you 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Exceeded in your favours, since I came Into this prison: you have (without flattery) Even overacted courtesie to me—

Bor.

I plead not so for every one, but you May challenge my respects:—the power 〈…〉〈…〉 As captain of the Guards, shall be employed To serve you, Madam, as you please command me.

Ar▪

Then 'pray, my Lord, 'mongst others, grant me this, To see the Lord Marciano.

Bor.

Madam, I shall conduct you to his Chamber▪ Or, if you please, he shall come hither to you.

Ar.

No, I will go to him.

Exeunt.

Sceaena Sixta.

At the other end enter Marciano, with him the Jaylor,

Mar.

A Lady, say'st thou?

Jayl.

Yes, my Lord, a young Lady.

Marc.

A Lady, and a Siennois,—strange!

Who can this be!—but now I have a thought, Yet I dare not expresse it—can it be! No, sure—impossible—prethee begone, And leave me to my self—

Jayl.

She will be here by and by, my Lord.

Exit Jayl.

Marciano solus.

Marc.

Well, who this Lady is, I cannot think, But in a dreame:—O, may I yet imagine, 'Tis she—Nay, hold—my hope cannot support Such a strong thought of blesse! I shall offend

Enter Arabella quietly.

Even in thinking—

Marciano discovers her.

—A cheat—a meer cheat—eyes do not gull me. The Lady Arrabella!—No, unlesse I heare her talk,—I'l think it still a phantasme —Speak fair ghost—is it thee?

Approaches to her.

Ar.

Marciano, it is I, the unfortunat Arabella.

Marc.

Then it is no more I—O—how I am

Embraces her.

Transported! how that divine voyce hath ravished My duller senses!—is't possible, you weep In sympathy with my afflictions?

Ar.

Yea altogether.

Marc.

Good gods! it is she—O does Arabella▪ Who, while I was in full prosperity,

Embraces again.

Did frown upon my Passions: stoop so low, As see me now in misery—unlesse She mean, as children, with their hobby-horses, T'unravell me, that she may thereby see What stuff I do contain:—dare I presume To think that love to me hath brought you hither?

Ar.

Most true—nought else—

Marc.

Fair innocence, whose presence does revive My spirits in this agony of sorrowes, While I am coop'd up, as a parrot, here, Expecting every day, when Atropos Shall cut my threed of life; that you should daigne To visit me! had your fair hand dispatch'd One word in post, it had been too great honour.

But thus to be thy own Embassadour, ••Tis a bewitching happinesse; no tongue Can well expresse my passion—good, my stars Preserve me from an extasie!—

Ar.

You wrong me, Marciano, I left Siena, Hearing of your bad successe; thence I came To Luca; there not finding you, to Florence, To see if I could purchase your enlargement, Either by art, or favour: but no sooner Was I come hither, when I was suspected As one, who keep't secret intelligence With the Dukes party here, and so committed—

Marc.—

Committed—how!—committd—heathnish wretches! Barbarous Rebells! to imprison one, Whom Indians had spar'd,—By Mar;—unheard of Even amongst Turks, and Tartars!

Ar.

Nay forbear, I am not so unfortunate, as you think, The Senate meaning thus to punish me Have rather cherish'd me:—your company May well allay my griefs.

Marc.

By this—and this—

Kisses her hand.

You honour me too much, but which is sad, I never shall be able to repay That love to you, which I owe, seing every hour I doe expect my sentence—

Ar.

Alas! harsh fates! O frail reward of courage!

Enter Jaylor.

Jayl.

Madam, my duty bears me to conduct you to your Chamber, it is now high time.

Ar.

My Lord, adieu, I shall see you to morrow.

Exit with Jayl.

Marciano solus.

Marc.

Farewell, my souls delight,—O unkind Stars! A fit theatre for such entertainement! An embleme of our love!—But I exclaim Unseasonably.—O how prettily Fortune hath tyed me, as a Shrove-tide bird, While Saturne, Mars and Cupid levell at me:

—A fig for all her tricks—I scorn her frown, She can win nothing, while my hearts my own.

Exit.

Scaena Septima.

Enter Strenuo with the Jaylor.

Stren.

IS he sentenced already?

Jayl.

No, not yet; but he must die.

Stren.

Well—let him go, 'twill learn others to be wise, friend▪ for, Souldiers have but shrewd arrears paid them now for their service.

Jayl.

I am really sorry for him; as I am true Florentine he is a noble Genteman, and loves to be courteous—

Stren.

But, d'you hear, Mr. Jaylor, shall we have t'other cup the night?

Jayl.

I—at the Siena Tavern, Signior Strenuo, where we may have a cup of good Canary; I am for you there, Signior Stre∣nuo, and will spend my checquin most heartily, Signior; for, I love to be frolique as well as courteous, especially with strangers, Signior.

Stren.

—Come then, brave old Boy, we'll have a cup o'th best on't. Will you go along now and I'l give you your morning draught?

Jayl.

No—not now; I must wait upon my Lord Borasco, he sent word that he would be here by and by.

Stren.

Farewell then—at night—old Hary—at night.

Exit Stren.

Jayl.

Yes, yes, I shall not fail you Signior, I warrand you. This same Strenuo is a notable fellow, as ever I knew of a Siennois: he loves to be courteous, effaith.

Enter Borasco with Souldiers.

Bor.

See it be done, I say, the Senate means To whip most of your stubborn Siennois, By his example—sirrah, Jaylor.

Jayl.

My Lord.

Bor.

My Lord Marciano is condemn'd to die—

Jayl.

The time, my Lord—

Bor.

Within six dayes, no more respite— Here are the Generals orders for it. —Sirrah, look to your prisoner, watch him well. I'l double all the ordinary guards About the prison; place my Sentinels In every corner—

Jayl.

I shall watch him, my Lord, I'l assure you,

Bor.

As you will answer us: now he shall die. Although he hath escap'd sometimes before, His worship shall play fast and loose no more.

Exeunt omnes.

Scaena Octava.

Enter Chrysolina, Marionetta, as in their Chamber.

Chrys.

I Profess ingenuously, Sister, I am ashamed of it.

Mar.

And I likewise; for people give easily credit to any report now a dayes.

Mar.

Let's rather be uncivil as admit them next time, Sister: I love no such company, I'l assure you.

Enter Signior Pantaloni.

Pant.

Ladies, I am come to wait upon you again—according to my duty—as in duty I am bound to undertake.

Chrys.

Sir, you are very welcome, I hope your mother is well.

Pant.

Yes, forsooth, Madam, how does your self?

Chrys.

In very good health, Sir, I thank you.

Pant.

I am very glad—But, hark you, Madam—one word in private with you—

to Mar.

This by your leave Mi∣stris.

leads her aside.

Ha••k you me now—my mother and I were sitting by the fire-side last night, as it is our custom, you know, in the winter-nights after supper; and—I do not know what we were talking of: but, amongst the rest I remember, if I have not forgot,—that she said—she said, sayes she—Now—whether this

be true or not, I cannot tell; you know best your self: but, I am sure she said it.

Chrys.

What, pray Sir?

Pant.

Now—I vow—if it were true, I would be as glad of it, as ever I was of my break-fast in a cold day:—for, I protest ingenuously, I am sure you know, I love to be serious.

Chrys.

Pray what's the matter, Sir?

Pant.

Why—I vow I know you would blush now, else I would tell you it.

Chrys.

I beseech you resolve me, Sir.

Pant.

I vow, I can hardly do it now, I am so stupi∣fied—with the rarity of the object of your person.

Kisses her hand.

Chrys.

I can have no longer patience—

Pan.

—Nay, hold—here's it now—I hope you will not tell it again; for it was told me as a great secret—why sayes she—but, as I told you, I know not surely if it be true or not: but, shall I tell you what I answered—Marry, Lady mother, sayes I—I fear you are but scorning me.

Chrys.

But, what was it that she said, Sir?

Pant.

Why—I vow—she—even said—that—you loved me—and O but I was blyth—

Chrys.

Hum—and is that all? keep such a long discourse for nothing.

Pant.

O!—I hope you are not angry.

Chrys.

No, no, Sir.

Mar.

Why—you might have said all that in three words, Sir.

Pant.

Nay—but prethee tell me if it be true: for, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it be not, I shall win two Ryals from my mother: for, she and I ••a••d a wager upon it, and I am come here for nothing else but to be resolved of it.

Mar.

Well—then, you have win, Sir.

Pant.

Nay—do not mock me now; I profess, I had rather lose a dozen of Ryals before she should not love me: for, I am sure—as sure as this glove is upon my hand—I love her.

Enter Boy.

Boy.

Madam, dinner is ready.

Chrys.

We come. Signior, will you dine with us, and—after∣wards we shall talk of that at more leasure.

Pant.

With all my heart, fair Ladyes, If you please, I will sup with you, and lye with you too—I love your company so well.

Exeunt omnes.